Rufus the Rooster

Rufus is my pet chicken.  He is a beautiful white rooster as big as a hen.  But he was not always white.  When I got him he was bright orange, for Rufus was an Easter chick.  On Easter, Mother bought me four colored chicks--red, green, purple, and pink.  My cousin also had four colored chicks.

But soon a terrible thing happened--my purple chick died!  I gave him a fitting burial.  Then my pink chick died, and then my red one, till I had only my green chick left.  Three of my cousin's chicks died also, and he had only an orange chick left.  My mother suggested that I take my chick over and give it to my cousin, so the two chicks could be together.  I was sorrowfully preparing to do so when here came my cousin with is orange chick and insisted that I keep them.  The next day my green chick died and left the orange chick all alone.  I named him Rufus.  Mother hoped he might die too, but Rufus lived on.

Soon white feathers began to grow out on him, until he was the ugliest little spotted chicken I ever saw.  But when he was all feathered out, he was a beautiful white chicken.  He grew and grew until he was as big as a hen, and became a great pet.  He would follow me around the yard.

One day we went to see my uncle who lives on a farm.  They have a huge deep freeze, in it they have more than a hundred fryers.  They took out seven fryers to cook for dinner.  Mother gasped.  She said, "If you would come to see us, we could probably have one chicken."  I wonder if she was thinking of Rufus?  Also, Thanksgiving is coming soon, and we have no turkey.  Poor Rufus, why couldn't he have been a pullet!

By Clara Hancock, age 11

(This was presented in an assembly at school in 1950.  Clara had built a perch for Rufus and had taken him to school with her while she gave this little story.  Rufus sat on his perch the whole time of her presentation.)

Remembered by Velma J. Palmer Hancock