He was awake every morning by four o'clock, and would announce the glories of the coming dawn by a series of ear-splitting notes, disturbing not only all my guests, but the various families within range, until complaints and petitions were sent in.

He became a nuisance--but how could he be muzzled?
And he was so gloriously handsome! Visitors from town would come expressly to see him.

School children would troop into my yard on Saturday afternoons, "to see the peacock spread his tail," which he often capriciously refused to do.

As soon as they departed, somewhat disappointed in "my great moral show," Beauty would go to a large window on the ground floor of the barn and parade up and down, displaying his beauties for his own gratification.

At last he fancied he saw a rival in this brilliant, irridescent reflection and pecked fiercely at the glass, breaking several panes.
Utterly selfish, he would keep all dainty bits for himself, leaving the scraps for his devoted mate, who would wait meekly to eat what he chose to leave.