Cock-A-Doodle-Doo! Or, The Crowing of the Noble Cock by Herman Melville

By Herman Melville

A brief tale from the vintage Shorts assortment: The chuffed Failure via Herman Melville

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Example text

The cock is a glorious cock, with a glorious voice, but not exactly the sort of thing for a sick chamber, one would suppose. ” “Don’t you like it? Don’t it do you good? Ain’t it inspiring? don’t it impart pluck? ” “All true,” said I, removing my hat with profound humility before the brave spirit disguised in the base coat. ” I leaped from my chair. The cock frightened me, like some overpowering angel in the Apocalypse. He seemed crowing over the fall of wicked Babylon, or crowing over the triumph of righteous Joshua in the vale of Ashkelon.

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Enough. Merrymusk is right. Oh, noble cock! oh, noble man! I did not see Merrymusk for some weeks after this; but hearing the glorious and rejoicing crow, I supposed that all went as usual with him. My own frame of mind remained a rejoicing one. The cock still inspired me. I saw another mortgage piled on my plantation; but only bought another dozen of stout, and a dozen dozen of Philadelphia porter. Some of my relatives died; I wore no mourning, but for three days drank stout in preference to porter, stout being of the darker color.

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