Whispering Smith
tam hen at all; this is a bantam rooster. Now that is my judgment. Compare him with the others. Notice how much darker his plumage is—it’s the rooster,” declared Whispering Smith, wiping the perplexity from his brow. “Don’t feel bad, not at all. Cut him loose, Miss Dicksie—don’t hesitate; do it on my responsibility. Now let’s look at the cannibal leghorns—and great Cæsar.”
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