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(A writer should be judged not by age, but by talent.) A Rooster, who fancied himself A bold and valiant fighter, And a Cockerel, nearly grown, By some chance—I know not what— Had words with one another, until 5 They fell to fighting fiercely. The Cockerel proved so deft That he gave our Rooster a handsome thrashing, And claimed the field as his; The vanquished sultan of that barnyard harem 10 Said, when his foe was out of earshot: “Well! In time he’ll make a decent Rooster: The poor young thing is still a lad.” He never tangled with the Cockerel again; But on another day, through some dispute, 15 He clashed with an elderly Rooster, A veteran of many battles, And scarcely had a feather or a comb left. As he withdrew from the fray, he said: “If I didn’t bear in mind he’s a poor old fellow... 20 But he’s doddering, and I spare him out of pity.” Whoever enters a contest— Over a literary matter, say— Should pay no heed to the years, But to the skill of his adversary. 25