"Something must be done this evening. But I
see no use in taking the whole community about in the rain. We will send
out another expedition."
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" screamed the three wise ones; "that means that
we're to face the storm whilst you have another nap, eh?"
"It seems an odd thing," said the chief cock, scratching his comb with
his claw, "that Flaps never thinks of going himself on these
expeditions."
"You're right," said Flaps. "It is an odd thing, for times out of mind
I've heard our old friend, the farmer, say, 'If you want a thing
done--Go; if not--Send.' This time I shall go. Cuddle close to each
other, and keep up your spirits. I'll find us a good home yet."
The fowls were much affected by Flaps' magnanimity, and with one voice
they cried: "Thank you, dear Flaps. Whatever you decide upon will do for
us."
And Mark added, "I will continue to act as watchman." And he went up to
the top of the tree as Flaps trotted off down the muddy road.
All that evening and far into the night it rained and rained, and the
fowls cuddled close to each other to keep warm, and Flaps did not
return. In the small hours of the morning the rain ceased, and the
rain-clouds drifted away, and the night-sky faded and faded till it was
dawn.
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