He is indolent, though he struts pompously over the grass as if the day were all too short for his onerous duties.

He calls the hens about him when I throw corn from the basket, but many a time I have seen him swallow hurriedly, and in private, some dainty titbit he has found unexpectedly.
He has no particular chivalry.

He gives no special encouragement to his hen when he becomes a prospective father, and renders little assistance when the responsibilities become actualities.

His only personal message or contribution to the world is his raucous cock-a-doodle-doo, which, being uttered most frequently at dawn, is the most ill-timed and offensive of all musical notes.

It is so unnecessary too, as if the day didn't come soon enough without his warning; but I suppose he is anxious to waken his hens and get them at their daily task, and so he disturbs the entire community.