{"id":"01KG8AM9VRT0PMB83NRDTGM6A6","cid":"bafkreiaw6qrwxc4csek6nqzzzjft6ergo6b3vrfs3nbm5w3rlazu5eem7a","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":5123,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:26.981Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 30","source_file":"01KG89J1FFTGRE9J93Z3K29NGY","start_line":5002,"text":"delineated on antique shields. His plumage was snowy, traced with gold.\r\nHe walked in front of the shanty, like a peer of the realm; his crest\r\nlifted, his chest heaved out, his embroidered trappings flashing in the\r\nlight. His pace was wonderful. He looked like some noble foreigner. He\r\nlooked like some Oriental king in some magnificent Italian opera.\r\n\r\nMerrymusk advanced from the door.\r\n\r\n‘Pray, is not that the Signor Beneventano?’\r\n\r\n‘Sir!’\r\n\r\n‘That’s the cock,’ said I, a little embarrassed. The truth was, my\r\nenthusiasm had betrayed me into a rather silly inadvertence. I had made\r\na somewhat learned sort of allusion in the presence of an unlearned man.\r\nConsequently, upon discovering it by his honest stare, I felt foolish;\r\nbut carried it off by declaring that _this was the cock_.\r\n\r\nNow, during the preceding autumn I had been to the city, and had chanced\r\nto be present at a performance of the Italian Opera. In that opera\r\nfigured in some royal character a certain Signor Beneventano--a man of a\r\ntall, imposing person, clad in rich raiment, like to plumage, and with a\r\nmost remarkable, majestic, scornful stride. The Signor Beneventano\r\nseemed on the point of tumbling over backward with exceeding\r\nhaughtiness. And, for all the world, the proud pace of the cock seemed\r\nthe very stage-pace of the Signor Beneventano.\r\n\r\nHark! Suddenly the cock paused, lifted his head still higher, ruffled\r\nhis plumes, seemed inspired, and sent forth a lusty crow. October\r\nMountain echoed it; other mountains sent it back; still others rebounded\r\nit; it overran the country round. Now I plainly perceived how it was I\r\nhad chanced to hear the gladdening sound on my distant hill.\r\n\r\n‘Good heavens! do you own the cock? Is that cock yours?’\r\n\r\n‘Is it my cock!’ said Merrymusk, looking slyly gleeful out of the corner\r\nof his long, solemn face.\r\n\r\n‘Where did you get it?’\r\n\r\n‘It chipped the shell here. I raised it.’\r\n\r\n‘You?’\r\n\r\nHark! Another crow. It might have raised the ghosts of all the pines and\r\nhemlocks ever cut down in that country. Marvellous cock! Having crowed,\r\nhe strode on again, surrounded by a bevy of admiring hens.\r\n\r\n‘What will you take for Signor Beneventano?’\r\n\r\n‘Sir?’\r\n\r\n‘That magic cock!--what will you take for him?’\r\n\r\n‘I won’t sell him.’\r\n\r\n‘I will give you fifty dollars.’\r\n\r\n‘Pooh!’\r\n\r\n‘One hundred!’\r\n\r\n‘Pish!’\r\n\r\n‘Five hundred!’\r\n\r\n‘Bah!’\r\n\r\n‘And you a poor man?’\r\n\r\n‘No; don’t I own that cock, and haven’t I refused five hundred dollars\r\nfor him?’\r\n\r\n‘True,’ said I, in profound thought; ‘that’s a fact. You won’t sell him,\r\nthen?’\r\n\r\n‘No.’\r\n\r\n‘Will you give him?’\r\n\r\n‘No.’\r\n\r\n‘Will you _keep_ him, then!’ I shouted, in a rage.\r\n\r\n‘Yes.’\r\n\r\nI stood a while admiring the cock, and wondering at the man. At last I\r\nfelt a redoubled admiration of the one, and a redoubled deference for\r\nthe other.\r\n\r\n‘Won’t you step in?’ said Merrymusk.\r\n\r\n‘But won’t the cock be prevailed upon to join us?’ said I.\r\n\r\n‘Yes. Trumpet! hither, boy! hither!’\r\n\r\nThe cock turned round, and strode up to Merrymusk.\r\n\r\n‘Come!’\r\n\r\nThe cock followed us into the shanty.\r\n\r\n‘Crow!’\r\n\r\nThe roof jarred.\r\n\r\nOh, noble cock!\r\n\r\nI turned in silence upon my entertainer. There he sat on an old battered\r\nchest, in his old tattered gray coat, with patches at his knees and\r\nelbows, and a deplorably bunged hat. I glanced round the room. Bare\r\nrafters overhead, but solid junks of jerked beef hanging from them.\r\nEarth floor, but a heap of potatoes in one corner, and a sack of Indian\r\nmeal in another. A blanket was strung across the apartment at the\r\nfarther end, from which came a woman’s ailing voice and the voices of\r\nailing children. But somehow in the ailing of these voices there seemed\r\nno complaint.\r\n\r\n‘Mrs. Merrymusk and children?’\r\n\r\n‘Yes.’\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 30"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJVQAZF49HK19VVYQ1DXW","peer_type":"segment","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1FFTGRE9J93Z3K29NGY","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AM9VPSDKMSX9JJ4EVATTA","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AMAHMR3E5ZY79371AHCDD","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:32.632Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:40.052Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}