Red, the rooster, stood up on the fence, shook his crown and stretched out his neck, ready for the first crow he would give to wake everyone up on the farm. But as he opened his beak, he heard a different sound. Puzzled, he shut his beak and cleared his throat. ‘What’s the matter with my voice?’ he throught. Then he told, “That is not my voice!” Hearing the sweet trilling of song that came from some tree, Mrs Roper, the farmer’s wife looked out of a window and said, “What a lovely morning song!” Red scowled. ‘No one says that to me, though I crow every morning!’ he thought. But as all the creatures came out to listen to the sweet notes, he realised that this song was truly different. “You’re a good rooster, Red,” said his wife, “but that’s a lark! We’re different and each one’s got a place!”
Morning Song
