Good job, Brewster Rooster.
Waking up first was his job. So was crowing. Brewster woke up crowing, "Cock-a-doodle-do! Cock-a-doodle-do!"
Brewster Rooster loved crowing and getting up early. He didn't love going to bed before everyone else on the farm. Even the sun stayed up later than Brewster. But going to bed first was also Brewster's job.
One night, Brewster stayed up past his bedtime. He watched the sun go down. When the sky got dark, Brewster did not go to bed. He was still awake when the pigs stopped oinking, the cows stopped mooing, the geese stopped honking, and the horses had lain down in their stalls. Finally, the light from Miss Priscilla's bedroom window disappeared. Miss Priscilla's peevish poodle, Percival, started to snore.
"I did it!" Brewster whispered. "I stayed up later than everyone else on the farm!" He popped some popcorn. He admired the moon and said "hello" to the stars. Later, Brewster climbed into bed, but he didn't fall asleep He stayed up to read.
The next morning, the sun rose before Brewster Rooster. Sunlight shone in Brewster's face and woke him up. Brewster yawned and stretched.
The pigs weren't oinking. The cows weren't mooing. The geese weren't honking, and the horses still lay asleep in their stalls. Miss Priscilla and Percival Poodle slept, too. Brewster was too sleepy to remember that waking them up was his job.
"Do," he mumbled. "What am I supposed to do?" Brewster asked himself. "Poodle-do?"
Brewster Rooster stumbled to Percival's kennel and picked Percival up. Brewster rocked Percival back and forth. "Rock-a-poodle," Brewster clucked softly. "Rock-a-poodle."
Percival woke up and growled, "Put me down!"
No, that wasn't what Brewster was supposed to do.
Brewster closed his sleepy eyes. He thought and thought. Miss Priscilla often left clothes out on the clothesline overnight. Now he had it!
Brewster returned to Percival's kennel with four pink socks. He started pulling socks over Percival's paws.
"Tee-hee-hee! Stop it! That tickles!" Percival giggled, squirming.
But Brewster kept on. "Sock-a-poodle," Brewster said firmly. Then an idea dawned on him. That's it! he thought.
"Sock-a-poodle-do!" he croaked as he pulled the fourth pink sock onto Percival's paw.
"Hee-hee-hee!" cried Percival. Then the poodle barked and barked louder and louder.
The pigs woke up and started oinking. The cows started mooing. The geese started honking and the horses stood up in their stalls.
Miss Priscilla woke, too. She leaned out her window and called out, "Good job, Brewster Rooster!"
"What a tiring job!" Brewster murmured. "I think I will go to bed early tonight."
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|Author:||Johnson, Cheryl Fusco|
|Publication:||Humpty Dumpty's Magazine|
|Article Type:||Short Story|
|Date:||Oct 1, 2002|
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