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The
Peacock, they say, did not at first have the beautiful feathers
in which he now takes so much pride. Juno, whose favorite
the Peacock was, granted these feathers to him one day when
he begged her for a train of feathers to distinguish him
from the other birds. Then, decked out in his finery, gleaming
with emerald, gold, purple and azure, he strutted proudly
among the birds. All regarded him with envy. Even the most
beautiful pheasant could see that his own beauty was surpassed.
Presently the Peacock saw an Eagle soaring high up in the
blue sky and felt a desire to fly, as he had been accustomed
to do previously. Lifting his wings he tried to rise from
the ground, but the weight of his magnificent train held
him down. Instead of flying up to greet the first rays of
the morning sun or to bathe in the rosy light among the
floating clouds at sunset, he would have to forever walk
the ground more encumbered and oppressed than any common
barnyard fowl.
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