Dean W. Brown
Rupert was born with a slight disability. His eyes were crossed. As a result, many of his young friends made fun of his problem. Often they would not associate with him. Rupert was able to make friends with some of the other animals of the barnyard. With the love of his caring mother and Billy, another rooster, Rupert was able to survive his youth. After Rupert and Billy reached maturity, they went on an adventure from the mountains to the coast. At each stop they helped other chickens that were in distress. They returned to the mountains in time to save Rupert’s mother from a disastrous situation. Rupert uses his disability to become a hero many times throughout the book.
Rupert the Cross-eyed Rooster teaches it’s readers to accept others regardless of their disabilities. These are stories which are taken from Brown’s collections of folklore of the Blue Ridge Mountains and include lessons of tolerance, love, responsibility and friendship that the youngest to the oldest readers will appreciate. The book is filled with humorous quotes which are translations of “chicken scratch.” This is an excellent book for reading to younger readers.
Dean Brown grew up in Mount Airy, North Carolina, sometimes known as Mayberry. He attended Mount Airy City Schools and Appalachian State University. Brown worked on his masters in Criminal Psychology at the University of South Florida, where he was employed as a prison librarian for the Florida Division of Corrections. He and his family later returned to Mount Airy where he continued his education in the Department of Library Science at Appalachian University’s Graduate School. Dean was impressed with the published writers he met while studying at Appalachian State. He has published several humorous poems and stories which include “The Night I Burned the Outhouse Down”, “My First Train Ride”, “Laurel Hill”, “Grandma’s Apron”, and others. He is the author of The Boyhood Adventures of JEB Stuart-A Civil War Hero, which is taken from his collection of Oral History of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Dean is a folk art painter and does his own illustrations. He taught art in some of the prisons and alternative schools which he worked in over the past forty-one years. He is married and has two children and three grandchildren.
It was spring in the North Carolina Mountains and the dogwood was just beginning to bud. The days were pleasant and the nights were not as cold as they had been during the winter. Bessie had been so faithful to keep the eggs warm at night and just the right temperature during the day. She knew that her hard work was still ahead of her for she would have to train all six new born chicks to eat, drink, keep themselves safe from danger, and grow up to become respectable chickens like herself. Bessie had been at the Smith Farm for three years and she had enjoyed every minute of her stay there. Bess, as she was sometimes called by the other hens, was a White Leghorn mother hen, who are known for their pride in laying large numbers of eggs. She had made friends with the Rhode Island Reds, who lived on the farm next door and a family of white Plymouth Rocks that lived at the farm across the dirt road.
About the middle of the next day she noticed two of the eggs began to move and shake, and she could hear tiny pecking noises within the shell. Then a tiny hole appeared in the shells, and as the day wore on they became larger and the little chicks pecked their way to the outside world. After they came out to the shells, their eyes were still closed and their tiny feathers were still wet. Bess had to cover them under her wings to keep them warm. Finally three other eggs began to give up their chicks, and after a few hours, five of the chicks had been born. There still remained one egg that seemed to refuse to open up and deliver its chick. After another day, the new chicks were anxious to get out of the nest and start hunting food, but the last chick seemed to be taking its time coming out of the egg. Finally at midnight on the third day the little spotted egg suddenly cracked open and out sprang the last chick. All the brothers and sisters knew right away he was going to be different because of his late birth. They named him Rupert, after his great-grandfather. Rupert and his family were proud to be White Leghorns. They knew their reputation for being the best egg layers in the whole chicken kingdom.
Rupert was a male chick, but he was different in another way: he was cross-eyed. When he was looking to one side, one eye would be looking the other way. This caused him all kinds of problems. He would aim for a big earthworm and go in the opposite direction and completely miss it. However, there were many worms and insects in all directions so he didn’t go hungry. When Rupert was a young chick and still being trained by his mother he often wandered off in the opposite direction of the brothers and sisters. This caused his mother great stress, and the other hens would often talk about her and her continual clucking to keep Rupert in line with the other chicks. Sometimes Bess would just let him wonder off by himself if she could see that he was in a safe place. Rupert was able to see things that he other family members could not see, this added to his education greatly. Therefore, being cross-eyed sometimes had its advantages. Never the less, mot of the other male chicks and the young cocks did not like him because he was slightly different. He often found it easier to stay away from the others and be by himself.
