{"id":"01KG6YH3QE9MEQR4T540NBTER9","cid":"bafkreieoebqwiy42ggbjzw2dq2crfh7ay7gtkbdrtsc5edavmn4ozzxkue","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":5319,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:45.581Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 8","source_file":"01KG6YDD8GKW0DRD5H2MY1NRZ7","start_line":5217,"text":"inspired me. I saw another mortgage piled on my plantation; but only\r\nbought another dozen of stout, and a dozen-dozen of Philadelphia\r\nporter. Some of my relatives died; I wore no mourning, but for three\r\ndays drank stout in preference to porter, stout being of the darker\r\ncolor. I heard the cock crow the instant I received the unwelcome\r\ntidings.\r\n\r\n\"Your health in this stout, oh, noble cock!\"\r\n\r\nI thought I would call on Merrymusk again, not having seen or heard of\r\nhim for some time now. Approaching the place, there were no signs of\r\nmotion about the shanty. I felt a strange misgiving. But the cock crew\r\nfrom within doors, and the boding vanished. I knocked at the door. A\r\nfeeble voice bade me enter. The curtain was no longer drawn; the whole\r\nhouse was a hospital now. Merrymusk lay on a heap of old clothes; wife\r\nand children were all in their beds. The cock was perched on an old\r\nhogshead hoop, swung from the ridge-pole in the middle of the shanty.\r\n\r\n\"You are sick, Merrymusk,\" said I mournfully.\r\n\r\n\"No, I am well,\" he feebly answered.--\r\n\r\n\"Crow, Trumpet.\"\r\n\r\nI shrunk. The strong soul in the feeble body appalled me.\r\n\r\nBut the cock crew.\r\n\r\nThe roof jarred.\r\n\r\n\"How is Mrs. Merrymusk?\"\r\n\r\n\"Well.\"\r\n\r\n\"And the children?\"\r\n\r\n\"Well. All well.\"\r\n\r\nThe last two words he shouted forth in a kind of wild ecstasy of\r\ntriumph over ill. It was too much. His head fell back. A white napkin\r\nseemed dropped upon his face. Merrymusk was dead.\r\n\r\nAn awful fear seized me.\r\n\r\nBut the cock crew.\r\n\r\nThe cock shook his plumage as if each feather were a banner. The cock\r\nhung from the shanty roof as erewhile the trophied flags from the dome\r\nof St. Paul's. The cock terrified me with exceeding wonder.\r\n\r\nI drew nigh the bedsides of the woman and children. They marked my look\r\nof strange affright; they knew what had happened.\r\n\r\n\"My good man is just dead,\" breathed the woman lowly. \"Tell me true?\"\r\n\r\n\"Dead,\" said I.\r\n\r\nThe cock crew.\r\n\r\nShe fell back, without a sigh, and through long-loving sympathy was\r\ndead.\r\n\r\nThe cock crew.\r\n\r\nThe cock shook sparkles from his golden plumage. The cock seemed in\r\na rapture of benevolent delight. Leaping from the hoop, he strode\r\nup majestically to the pile of old clothes, where the wood-sawyer\r\nlay, and planted himself, like an armorial supporter, at his side.\r\nThen raised one long, musical, triumphant, and final sort of a crow,\r\nwith throat heaved far back, as if he meant the blast to waft the\r\nwood-sawyer's soul sheer up to the seventh heavens. Then he strode,\r\nking-like, to the woman's bed. Another upturned and exultant crow,\r\nmated to the former.\r\n\r\nThe pallor of the children was changed to radiance. Their faces shone\r\ncelestially through grime and dirt. They seemed children of emperors\r\nand kings, disguised. The cock sprang upon their bed, shook himself,\r\nand crowed, and crowed again, and still and still again. He seemed bent\r\nupon crowing the souls of the children out of their wasted bodies. He\r\nseemed bent upon rejoining instanter this whole family in the upper\r\nair. The children seemed to second his endeavors. Far, deep, intense\r\nlongings for release transfigured them into spirits before my eyes. I\r\nsaw angels where they lay.\r\n\r\nThey were dead.\r\n\r\nThe cock shook his plumage over them. The cock crew. It was now like a\r\nBravo! like a Hurrah! like a Three-times-three! hip! hip! He strode\r\nout of the shanty. I followed. He flew upon the apex of the dwelling,\r\nspread wide his wings, sounded one supernatural note, and dropped at my\r\nfeet.\r\n\r\nThe cock was dead.\r\n\r\nIf now you visit that hilly region, you will see, nigh the railroad\r\ntrack, just beneath October Mountain, on the other side of the\r\nswamp--there you will see a gravestone, not with skull and cross-bones,\r\nbut with a lusty cock in act of crowing, chiseled on it, with the words\r\nbeneath:\r\n\r\n    \"_O death, where is thy sting?\r\n     O grave, where is thy victory?_\"\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 8"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6YGBGKG15EQNWSZXFWPM05","peer_type":"segment","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6YDD8GKW0DRD5H2MY1NRZ7","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6YH3QEPWNB3MB242H5K1F7","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6YH3QE58E55B6VK430RMN8","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:50.702Z","ts":"2026-01-30T07:57:55.724Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}