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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18652-h.zip b/18652-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..39bd9c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/18652-h.zip diff --git a/18652-h/18652-h.htm b/18652-h/18652-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..826a7dc --- /dev/null +++ b/18652-h/18652-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2557 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Tale of Henrietta Hen, by Arthur Scott Bailey + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1 {text-align: center; clear: both; font-size: 180%;} + h2 {text-align: center; clear: both; font-size: 120%;} + table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align: center;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} + hr.full {width:100%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.major {width:75%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.minor {width:30%; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; + font-size: 90% } + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Henrietta Hen, by Arthur Scott Bailey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tale of Henrietta Hen + +Author: Arthur Scott Bailey + +Illustrator: Harry L. Smith + +Release Date: June 22, 2006 [EBook #18652] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<table width="450" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="" border="1"> + <col style="width:80%;" /> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + + +<span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /><i>SLUMBER-TOWN TALES</i></span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%;"><i>(Trademark Registered)</i></span><br /><br /> +<span style="font-size: 160%;">THE TALE OF</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 220%;">HENRIETTA</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 220%;">HEN</span><br /><br /><br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%;">BY</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 100%;">ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY</span><br /><br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%;">Author of</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 100%;">"SLEEPY-TIME TALES"</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%;">(Trademark Registered)</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 100%;">"TUCK-ME-IN TALES"</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%;">(Trademark Registered)</span><br /><br /><br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%;">ILLUSTRATED BY</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 100%;">HARRY L. SMITH</span><br /><br /><br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%;">NEW YORK</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 100%;">GROSSET & DUNLAP</span><br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%;">PUBLISHERS</span><br /><br /><br /> +<span style="font-size: 80%;">Made in the United States of America</span><br /><br /> + </td> + </tr> +</table> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<p style="text-align:center"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1921, By</span><br /> +GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div class='figcenter' style='width: 300px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="illus-001" id="illus-001"></a> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' width='300' alt='Henrietta Hen is Afraid the Duck Will Drown. _Frontispiece_ (_Page 14_)' title='' /><br /> +<span class='caption'>Henrietta Hen is Afraid the Duck Will Drown. <i>Frontispiece</i> (<i>Page 14</i>)</span> +</div> +<hr class="major" /> + +<h2><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2> +<div class="smcap"> +<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<col style="width:10%;" /> +<col style="width:48%;" /> +<col style="width:28%;" /> +<tr><td align="right"><span style="font-size:60%">CHAPTER</span></td><td align="left"> </td><td align="right"><span style="font-size:60%">PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">I</td><td align="left"> A SPECKLED BEAUTY</td><td align="right"><a href="#r3929">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II</td><td align="left"> A FINE FAMILY</td><td align="right"><a href="#r6100">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III</td><td align="left"> WET FEET</td><td align="right"><a href="#r6435">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV</td><td align="left"> A SWIMMER</td><td align="right"><a href="#r9657">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V</td><td align="left"> CAUGHT BY MR. CROW</td><td align="right"><a href="#r4640">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI</td><td align="left"> HENRIETTA COMPLAINS</td><td align="right"><a href="#r3537">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII</td><td align="left"> WARNING THE ROOSTER</td><td align="right"><a href="#r7836">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII</td><td align="left"> WHY THE ROOSTER CROWED</td><td align="right"><a href="#r3041">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX</td><td align="left"> HAUGHTY HENRIETTA</td><td align="right"><a href="#r2404">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X</td><td align="left"> THE BIG, WHITE EGG</td><td align="right"><a href="#r6180">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI</td><td align="left"> OLD WHITEY'S ADVICE</td><td align="right"><a href="#r6183">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII</td><td align="left"> PLAYING TRICKS</td><td align="right"><a href="#r6477">55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII</td><td align="left"> TWO IN A GARDEN</td><td align="right"><a href="#r6351">59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV</td><td align="left"> EARS—SHORT OR LONG</td><td align="right"><a href="#r8636">64</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV</td><td align="left"> HENRIETTA'S FRIGHT</td><td align="right"><a href="#r1071">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVI</td><td align="left"> THE ROOSTER UPSET</td><td align="right"><a href="#r8344">76</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVII</td><td align="left"> A SIGN OF RAIN</td><td align="right"><a href="#r8731">81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVIII</td><td align="left"> IN NEED OF ADVICE</td><td align="right"><a href="#r4542">85</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIX</td><td align="left"> AUNT POLLY HELPS</td><td align="right"><a href="#r5220">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XX</td><td align="left"> A GREAT FLURRY</td><td align="right"><a href="#r3635">94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXI</td><td align="left"> OFF FOR THE FAIR</td><td align="right"><a href="#r6204">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXII</td><td align="left"> ALMOST HOMESICK</td><td align="right"><a href="#r7572">104</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIII</td><td align="left"> GETTING ACQUAINTED</td><td align="right"><a href="#r1710">109</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIV</td><td align="left"> WINNING FIRST PRIZE</td><td align="right"><a href="#r7625">114</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr class="major" /> +<h2><a name="Illustrations" id="Illustrations"></a>Illustrations</h2> +<div class="smcap"> +<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<col style="width:80%;" /> +<col style="width:20%;" /> +<tr><td align="left">Henrietta Hen is Afraid the Duck Will Drown. (<i>Page 14</i>)</td><td align="right"><a href="#illus-001">Frontispiece</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Come Up to My Nest!" Cried Henrietta Hen. (<i>Page 50</i>)</td><td align="right"><a href="#illus-002">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Henrietta Hen Scolds Jimmy Rabbit. (<i>Page 62</i>)</td><td align="right"><a href="#illus-003">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Don't Worry!" Said Aunt Polly Woodchuck. (<i>Page 91</i>)</td><td align="right"><a href="#illus-004">89</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> + + +<h1>THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN</h1> + +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r3929" id="r3929"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> +<h2>I</h2><h3>A SPECKLED BEAUTY</h3> +</div> + +<p>Henrietta Hen thought highly of herself. Not only did she consider +herself a "speckled beauty" (to use her own words) but she had an +excellent opinion of her own ways, her own ideas—even of her own +belongings. When she pulled a fat worm—or a grub—out of the ground she +did it with an air of pride; and she was almost sure to say, "There! I'd +like to see anybody else find a bigger one than that!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<p>Of course, it wouldn't really have pleased her at all to have one of her +neighbors do better than she did. That was only her way of boasting that +no one could beat her.</p> + +<p>If any one happened to mention speckles Henrietta Hen was certain to +speak of her own, claiming that they were the handsomest and most +speckly to be found in Pleasant Valley. And if a person chanced to say +anything about combs, Henrietta never failed to announce that hers was +the reddest and most beautiful in the whole world.</p> + +<p>Nobody could ever find out how she knew that. She had never been off the +farm. But it was useless to remind her that she had never travelled. +Such a remark only made her angry.</p> + +<p>Having such a good opinion of herself, Henrietta Hen always had a great +deal to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> talk about. She kept up a constant cluck from dawn till dusk. +It made no difference to her whether she happened to be alone, or with +friends. She talked just the same—though naturally she preferred to +have others hear what she said, because she considered her remarks most +important.</p> + +<p>There were times when Henrietta Hen took pains that all her neighbors +should hear her. She was never so proud as when she had a newly-laid egg +to exhibit. Then an ordinary cluck was not loud enough to express her +feelings. To announce such important news Henrietta Hen never failed to +raise her voice in a high-pitched "Cut-cut-cut, ca-dah-cut!" This +interesting speech she always repeated several times. For she wanted +everybody to know that Henrietta Hen had laid another of her famous +eggs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<p>After such an event she always went about asking people if they had +heard the news—just as if they could have <i>helped</i> hearing her silly +racket!</p> + +<p>Now, it sometimes happened, when she was on such an errand, that +Henrietta Hen met with snubs. Now and then her question—"Have you heard +the news?"—brought some such sallies as these: "Polly Plymouth Rock has +just laid an <i>enormous</i> egg! Have you seen it?" Or maybe, "Don't be +disappointed, Henrietta! Somebody has to lay the littlest ones!"</p> + +<p>Such jibes were certain to make Henrietta Hen lose her temper. And she +would talk very fast (and, alas! very loud, too) about jealous neighbors +and how unpleasant it was to live among folk that were so stingy of +their praise that they couldn't say a good word for the finest eggs +that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> ever were seen! On such occasions Henrietta Hen generally talked +in a lofty way about moving to the village to live.</p> + +<p>"They think enough of my eggs down there," she would boast. "Boiled, +fried, poached, scrambled, or for an omelette—my eggs can't be beaten."</p> + +<p>"If the villagers can't beat your eggs they certainly can't use them for +omelettes," Polly Plymouth Rock told Henrietta one day. "Everybody knows +you have to beat eggs to make an omelette."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen didn't know what to say to that. It was almost the only +time she was ever known to be silent.</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r6100" id="r6100"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +<h2>II</h2><h3>A FINE FAMILY</h3> +</div> + +<p>Henrietta Hen's neighbors paid little attention to her boasting, because +they had to listen to it so often. At last, however, there came a day +when she set up such a cackling as they had never heard from her before. +She kept calling out at the top of her lungs, "Come-come-come! +See-what-I've-got! Come-come-come! See-what-I've-got!" And she acted +even more important than ever, until her friends began to say to one +another, "What <i>can</i> Henrietta be so proud about? If it's only another +egg, she's making a terrible fuss about it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>They decided at last that if they were to have any peace they'd better +go and look at whatever it was that Henrietta Hen was squawking about. +So they went—in a body—to the place where she had her nest, in the +haymow.</p> + +<p>When Henrietta caught sight of her visitors she set up a greater clamor +than ever.</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" cried the oldest of the party, a rather sharp-tongued dame +with white feathers. "What's all this hubbub about?" And then they +learned what it was that Henrietta wanted them to see.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever set eyes on such a fine family?" she demanded as she +stepped aside from her nest and let them peer into it.</p> + +<p>"A brood of chicks—eh?" said the lady in white. "Well, what's all the +noise about?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen turned her back on her questioner.</p> + +<p>"I knew you'd all want to have a look at these prize youngsters," she +said to the rest of the company. "You'll agree with me, of course, that +there were never any other chicks as handsome as these."</p> + +<p>Henrietta's neighbors all crowded up to gaze upon the soft balls of +down.</p> + +<p>"This is the first family you've hatched, isn't it?" Polly Plymouth Rock +inquired.</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen said that it was her first brood.</p> + +<p>Her neighbors wanted to be pleasant. So they told her that her children +were as fine youngsters as anybody could ask for. And the old white +dame, squinting at the nestlings, said to Henrietta:</p> + +<p>"They're the finest you've ever had.... But there's one of them that has +a queer look."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<p>All the other visitors tried to hush her up. They didn't want to hurt +Henrietta Hen's feelings. It was her first brood of chicks; and they +could forgive her for thinking them the best in the whole world. So when +they saw that old Whitey intended to be disagreeable they began to cluck +their approval of the youngsters, hoping that Henrietta wouldn't notice +what Whitey said.</p> + +<p>Nor did she. Henrietta Hen was altogether too pleased with herself and +her new family to pay much attention to anybody else's remarks.</p> + +<p>"I hope," said Henrietta, "that you'll all come to see my family often. +As the youngsters grow, I'm sure they'll get handsomer every day."</p> + +<p>The neighbors thanked her. And crowding about old Whitey they moved +away. Old Whitey just had to go too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> She couldn't help spluttering a +little.</p> + +<p>"What a vain, empty-headed creature Henrietta Hen is!" she exclaimed. +"She doesn't know that one of her brood is nothing but a duckling!"</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r6435" id="r6435"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +<h2>III</h2><h3>WET FEET</h3> +</div> + +<p>Somehow Henrietta Hen never noticed that one of her brood was different +from the rest. They were her first youngsters and they all looked +beautiful to her.</p> + +<p>Just as soon as Henrietta began to take her children for strolls about +the farmyard she taught them a number of things. She showed them how to +scratch in the dirt for food, how to drink by raising their heads and +letting the water trickle down their throats. She bade them beware of +hawks—and of Miss Kitty Cat, too. And she was always warning them to +keep their feet dry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Water's good for nothing except to drink," Henrietta informed her +chicks. "Some strange people, like old dog Spot, jump right into it. And +how they manage to keep well is more than I can understand. Dust baths +are the only safe ones."</p> + +<p>So much did she fear water that Henrietta Hen wouldn't even let her +children walk in the grass until the sun had dried the morning's dew. +And the first sprinkle of rain was enough to send her scurrying for +cover, calling frantically for her chicks to hurry.</p> + +<p>Now, there was one of her family that always lagged behind when the +rain-drops began to fall. And often Henrietta had fairly to drive him +away from a puddle of water. She sometimes remarked with a sigh that he +gave her more trouble than all the rest of her children together.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was the youngster that Mrs. Hen's neighbors told one another was +different from his brothers and sisters. But poor Henrietta Hen only +knew that he was unusually hard to manage.</p> + +<p>As her family grew bigger, Henrietta Hen took them on longer strolls, +always casting a careful eye aloft now and then, lest some hawk should +swoop down upon her darlings. And though no hawk tried to surprise her, +something happened one day that gave Henrietta almost as great a fright +as any cruel hawk could have caused her.</p> + +<p>They had strayed down by the duck-pond—had Henrietta and her children, +stopping here and there to scratch for some tidbit, or to flutter in an +inviting dust-heap. Once they had reached the bank of the pond Henrietta +began to wish she hadn't brought her family in that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> direction. For one +of the youngsters—the one that never would hurry in out of the +rain—insisted on toddling down to the water's edge.</p> + +<p>"Come away this instant!" Henrietta shrieked, as soon as she noticed +where he was. "You'll get your feet wet the first thing you know."</p> + +<p>She never said anything truer than that. The words were scarcely out of +her bill when the odd member of her family flung himself into the water. +Or to be more exact, he flung himself <i>upon</i> it; for he floated on the +surface as easily as a chip and began to paddle about as if he had swum +all his life.</p> + +<p>"Come back! Come back!" Henrietta Hen shrieked. "You'll be drowned—and +you'll get your feet wet!"</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r9657" id="r9657"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +<h2>IV</h2><h3>A SWIMMER</h3> +</div> + +<p>Henrietta Hen ran as fast as she could down the bank and stood as near +the water as she dared, cackling loudly and flapping her wings.</p> + +<p>Her child, who was swimming in the duck-pond, seemed to have no +intention of minding her. Nor did he seem to have any intention of +drowning; and as for getting his feet wet, he acted as if he liked +<i>that</i>.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?" Henrietta Hen squawked. She made +so much noise that some of her neighbors came a-running, to see what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +was the matter. And as soon as they discovered what had happened they +began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"We may as well tell you," they said to Henrietta Hen, "that that chap +out there is a duckling. The water won't hurt him."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen gasped and gaped. She was astonished. But she soon pulled +herself together. And it was just like her to begin to boast.</p> + +<p>"See!" she cried to her friends, and waved a wing toward the water with +an air of pride. "There isn't one of you that has a child that can beat +him swimming."</p> + +<p>"I should hope not!" said Polly Plymouth Rock with a shrug of her fine +shoulders. And all the others agreed that they wanted no swimmers in +their families.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen announced that she was sorry for them. "Every brood," she +declared, "should have at least one swimmer in it." She began to strut +up and down the edge of the duck-pond, clucking in a most overbearing +fashion. Really, she had never felt quite so important before—not even +when her first brood pecked their way out of their shells.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing quite like swimming," Henrietta Hen remarked with a +silly smirk. "If it weren't for getting my feet wet I'd be tempted to +learn myself. No doubt my son could teach me."</p> + +<p>"Your son!" the old white hen sniffed. "He's not your son, Henrietta +Hen. Somebody played a joke on you. Somebody put a duck's egg under you +while you were hatching your eggs. And I think I can guess who it was +that did it."</p> + +<p>For just a moment Henrietta Hen stood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> still. The news almost took her +breath away. Her comb trembled on the top of her head. She even stopped +clucking. And she looked from one to another of her companions as if in +hopes of finding one face, at least, that looked doubtful.... Alas! +Everybody appeared to agree with old Whitey.</p> + +<p>"If this is so," Henrietta muttered at last, "it's strange nobody ever +noticed before that there was a duckling in my brood."</p> + +<p>"We knew from the very first!" Polly Plymouth Rock told her. "You were +the only one on the farm that didn't see that one of your family was +different from the rest."</p> + +<p>All this time the young duckling was swimming further and further away. +He seemed to have forgotten all about his foster mother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen took one long last look at him. She guessed that she might +have stood there forever cackling for him to come back and he wouldn't +have paid the slightest heed to her.</p> + +<p>Then she gathered her children—her really own—about her. "Come!" she +said to them, "We'll go back home now."</p> + +<p>"What about him?" they demanded, pointing to the truant duckling who was +bobbing about on the rippling water. "Aren't you going to make him come, +too?"</p> + +<p>"No!" said their mother. "We're well rid of him. He has been more +trouble to me than all the rest of you.... To tell the truth, I never +liked him very well."</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r4640" id="r4640"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +<h2>V</h2><h3>CAUGHT BY MR. CROW</h3> +</div> + +<p>It wasn't far to the edge of the cornfield from the farmyard fence. And +Henrietta Hen was quick to discover that the freshly ploughed and +harrowed field offered a fine place to scratch for all kinds of worms +and bugs and grubs.</p> + +<p>Not being what you might call a wise bird—like old Mr. Crow—Henrietta +didn't know that Farmer Green had carefully planted corn in that field, +in long rows. She did exclaim, however, that she was in great luck when +now and then she unearthed a few kernels of corn. But she wasn't +<i>looking</i> for corn. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> merely ate it when she happened to find any.</p> + +<p>It is no wonder, then, that she was amazed when a hoarse voice suddenly +cried right in her ear, almost, "You're a thief and you can't deny it!"</p> + +<p>She jumped. How could she have helped it? And the voice exclaimed, +"There! You're guilty or you'd never have jumped like that."</p> + +<p>Turning, Henrietta saw that a black, beady-eyed gentleman was staring at +her sternly.</p> + +<p>"It takes Mr. Crow to catch 'em," he croaked. "He can tell a corn-thief +half a mile away."</p> + +<p>All this time Henrietta Hen hadn't said a word. At first she was too +surprised. And afterward she was too angry.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you speak?" he demanded. He dearly loved a quarrel. And +somehow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> it wasn't much fun quarrelling with anybody when the other +party wouldn't say a word.</p> + +<p>Still Henrietta Hen didn't open her mouth. She puzzled Mr. Crow. He even +forgot his rage (for it always made him angry if anybody but himself +scratched up any corn).</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you?" he asked. "What's the reason you don't +speak?"</p> + +<p>"I'm too proud to talk with you," said Henrietta Hen. "I don't care to +be seen speaking to you, sir."</p> + +<p>"Ha!" Mr. Crow exploded. "Don't you think I'm as good as you are?"</p> + +<p>"No!" said Henrietta Hen. "No, I don't!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Crow was all for arguing with her. He began to tell Henrietta many +things about himself, how he had spent dozens<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> of summers in Pleasant +Valley, what a great traveller he was, how far he could fly in a day. +There was no end to his boasting.</p> + +<p>Yet Henrietta Hen never looked the least bit interested. Indeed, she +began scratching for worms while he was talking. And that made the old +fellow angrier than ever.</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare eat another kernel of corn!" he thundered. "If you do, +I'll have to tell Farmer Green."</p> + +<p>"He feeds me corn every day—cracked corn!" said Henrietta.</p> + +<p>"Well, I never!" cried Mr. Crow. "What's he thinking of, wasting good +corn like that?"</p> + +<p>"Really, I mustn't be seen talking with you," Henrietta Hen told Mr. +Crow. "If you want to know the answer to your question, come over to the +barnyard and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> ask the Rooster. He'll give you an answer that you won't +like."</p> + +<p>And then she walked away with stately steps.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crow watched her with a baleful gleam in his eyes. He knew well +enough what Henrietta meant. The Rooster would rather fight him than +not. And though Mr. Crow loved a quarrel, he never cared to indulge in +anything more dangerous than harsh words.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what the farm's coming to," he croaked. "Here's Farmer +Green wasting corn on such as her—and cracking it for her, too!"</p> + +<p>So saying, the old gentleman turned his back on Henrietta Hen, who was +already fluttering through the farmyard fence. And thereupon he +scratched up enough corn for a hearty meal, grumbling meanwhile<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> because +it wasn't cracked for him.</p> + +<p>"Somehow," he muttered, "I can't help wishing I was a speckled hen."</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r3537" id="r3537"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +<h2>VI</h2><h3>HENRIETTA COMPLAINS</h3> +</div> + +<p>There was another member of Farmer Green's flock, besides Henrietta Hen, +that was proud. Nobody needed to look twice at the Rooster to tell that +he had an excellent opinion of himself. He had a way of walking about +the farmyard that said quite plainly that he believed himself to be a +person of great importance. And it was true that things went according +to his ideas, among the flock.</p> + +<p>He was always spoken of as "the Rooster." For although there were other +roosters in the flock, they were both younger and smaller than he, and +he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> would never permit anybody to call them—in his hearing—anything +but cockerels.</p> + +<p>These cockerels usually took great pains to keep out of the Rooster's +way. If they were careless, and he caught them napping, he was more than +likely to make matters unpleasant for them. He knew how to make their +feathers fly.</p> + +<p>Now, Henrietta Hen thought that the Rooster behaved in a most silly +fashion. She said it pained her to see him prancing about, with his two +long, arched tail-feathers nodding as he walked. The truth was, +Henrietta could not endure it to have any one more elegantly dressed +than she. And there was no denying that the Rooster's finery outshone +everybody else's. Why, he wore a comb on his head that was even bigger +than Henrietta's! And he had spurs, too, for his legs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>But what Henrietta Hen disliked most about the Rooster was the way he +crowed each morning. It wasn't so much the <i>kind</i> of crowing that he +indulged in; it was rather the early hour he chose for it that annoyed +Henrietta. He always began his <i>Cockle-doodle-doo</i> while it was yet +dark. Then everybody in the henhouse had to wake up, whether he wanted +to or not. And Henrietta Hen did wish the Rooster would keep still at +least till daylight came. She often remarked that it was perfectly +ridiculous for any one from a fine family—as she was—to get up at such +an unearthly hour. She said it was a wonder she kept her good looks, +just on account of the Rooster's crowing.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you ask him to wait until it's light, before he begins to +crow?" Polly Plymouth Rock asked Henrietta one day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll do it!" cried Henrietta. Right then she called to one of the +cockerels, who was near-by. "Just skip across the yard and ask the +Rooster—" she began.</p> + +<p>The cockerel broke right in upon her message.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I can't do that!" he exclaimed. "I've never gone up to the Rooster +and spoken to him. If I did, he'd be sure to fight me."</p> + +<p>"Just tell him that I sent you," said Henrietta. And she made the +cockerel listen to her message. But he wouldn't be persuaded. He told +Henrietta that the Rooster would be sure to jump at him the moment he +opened his mouth. "Besides," he added, "it wouldn't do any good, anyhow. +The Rooster can't wait until after daylight, before he begins to crow."</p> + +<p>"He can't, eh?" Henrietta Hen spoke up somewhat sharply. "I'd like to +know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> the reason why!" And fixing her gaze sternly upon the Rooster, she +marched straight across the farmyard towards him, to find out.</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r7836" id="r7836"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +<h2>VII</h2><h3>WARNING THE ROOSTER</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Good Afternoon!" Henrietta Hen greeted the Rooster. He had not seen her +as she walked towards him. And when she spoke he hastily arranged his +two long tail-feathers in what he considered a more becoming droop.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, madam!" he answered—for the Rooster prided himself +that he was always polite to the ladies. "Er—there's nothing wrong, I +hope," he added quickly as he noticed an odd gleam in Henrietta Hen's +eye.</p> + +<p>"Yes—there is," she said. The cockerels might fear the Rooster, but +Henrietta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> certainly didn't. She considered him a good deal of a +braggart. Indeed, she even had an idea that she could have whipped him +herself, had she cared to be so unladylike as to fight. "I've been +bothered for a long time because you crow so early in the morning. You +make such a racket that you wake me up every day."</p> + +<p>The Booster hemmed and hawed. Somehow he felt uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"That's unfortunate," he stammered. And then he had a happy thought. +"Anyhow," he continued, with a smile at Henrietta, "you don't look as if +you lacked for sleep, madam. You grow more beautiful every day."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen admitted that it was so. "But," she said, "I believe I'd +be even handsomer if I weren't disturbed so early. I don't like to get +up while it's dark. So I'm going to ask you to delay your crowing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> from +now on, until after sunrise."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" cried the Rooster. "I'm sorry to disoblige you, madam. But +what you ask can't be done."</p> + +<p>"That's just what the cockerel said!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"The cockerel!" the Rooster echoed angrily. "Which one? Has one of those +upstarts been talking about me? Point him out to me and I'll soon teach +him a lesson."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen said that she hadn't noticed which cockerel it was. +Somehow they all looked alike to her.</p> + +<p>"Good!" the Rooster cried. "Then I'll have to whip them all, to make +sure of punishing the guilty one." He looked very fierce.</p> + +<p>"Don't be absurd!" Henrietta told him. "I asked one of the cockerels to +give you a message about not crowing so early. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> he declined. He said +it wouldn't do any good."</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't have done <i>him</i> any good," the Rooster declared, stamping a +foot and thrusting his bill far forward, to show Henrietta Hen how brave +he was.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" she inquired. "Have you eaten something that +disagrees with you?"</p> + +<p>The Rooster couldn't help looking foolish. Henrietta Hen believed in +letting him know that she stood in no awe of him. And while he was +feeling ill at ease she hastened to tell him that hereafter he must +<i>hold onto</i> his first crow until after sunrise.</p> + +<p>"I can't do that," he told her again, unhappily.</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare let go of it!" she warned him. "If that first crow gets +away from you while it's dark, there'll be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> so many others to follow it +that I shan't be able to close an eye for even a cat-nap."</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r3041" id="r3041"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +<h2>VIII</h2><h3>WHY THE ROOSTER CROWED</h3> +</div> + +<p>Henrietta Hen had commanded the Rooster to wait until daylight before he +began to crow.</p> + +<p>He saw that she had made up her mind that he must obey her. But he knew +he couldn't. And he always took great pains to be polite to the ladies.</p> + +<p>It was a wonder the Rooster didn't turn red in the face. He had never +found himself in such a corner before.</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," he blurted. "I'd be delighted to oblige you, but +if I didn't crow until after the sun rose I'd never crow again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We could stand that," was Henrietta Hen's grim reply.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps!" he admitted—for she made him feel strangely humble. "But +could you stand it if the night lasted forever?"</p> + +<p>"You're talking nonsense now," she declared.</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," he told her again. "And I must say I'm +surprised, madam, that you didn't know it was I that waked the sun up +every morning. <i>That's</i> why I crow so early."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen was so astonished that she didn't know what to say. She +thought deeply for a time—or as deeply as she could.</p> + +<p>"Have you not noticed," the Rooster inquired, "that the sun never rises +until I've crowed loudly a good many times?"</p> + +<p>"No! No—I haven't," Henrietta murmured.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> "But now that you speak of it, +I see that it's so."</p> + +<p>"Exactly!" he said. "And often, madam, I have to crow a long time before +he peeps over Blue Mountain. It's lucky I have a good, strong voice," +the Rooster, added with a smirk, for he was feeling more at his ease. +"If I had a thin, squeaky crow such as those worthless cockerels have, +Farmer Green would have had to do many a day's work in the dark."</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" Henrietta Hen gasped. "Do crow your loudest the moment you +wake up, Mr. Rooster! Do make all the noise you can!" And he promised +faithfully that he would.</p> + +<p>Henrietta left him then. Somehow she couldn't get their talk out of her +mind. And soon she had an unhappy thought. What if anything should +happen to the Rooster's voice?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p>The moment that question popped into her head, Henrietta Hen hurried +back to the Rooster.</p> + +<p>"Do be careful!" she besought him. "Don't get your feet wet! For if you +caught cold you might be so hoarse that you couldn't speak above a +whisper."</p> + +<p>The Rooster thanked her politely for thinking of his health.</p> + +<p>"I always take good care of myself," he assured her.</p> + +<p>"It looks like rain this minute," she said as she cast an anxious glance +at the sky. "Hadn't you better run into the barn?"</p> + +<p>He thought otherwise—and said as much.</p> + +<p>"You ought to wear rubbers every day," she chided him, as she went away +again.</p> + +<p>Soon Henrietta returned once more to urge the Rooster to carry an +umbrella.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> And it wasn't long after that when she came bustling up to +him and informed him that a warm muffler about his throat wouldn't be +amiss.</p> + +<p>There seemed to be no end to her suggestions. And though at first the +Rooster had liked to hear them (without having any idea of following +them) after a time Henrietta's attentions began to annoy him.</p> + +<p>"Great cracked corn!" he exclaimed. "This Henrietta Hen is getting to be +a pest."</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r2404" id="r2404"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +<h2>IX</h2><h3>HAUGHTY HENRIETTA</h3> +</div> + +<p>Feeling as important as she did, Henrietta Hen liked to have her own +way. She said that she couldn't be expected to do just as others wished.</p> + +<p>"I'll take orders from nobody," she often declared. "And if I lay eggs +for Farmer Green I shall lay them when and where I please."</p> + +<p>Henrietta took special delight in laying her eggs in out-of-the-way +places. She was never content to lay two in the same nest.</p> + +<p>"If they left them for me perhaps I'd feel differently," she explained +to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> neighbors. "But Johnnie Green gathers every egg that he can +find. And if he takes my eggs I'll make him hunt for them, anyhow."</p> + +<p>The older, more staid hens shook their heads when Henrietta talked like +that. They told her she was ungrateful.</p> + +<p>"Farmer Green gives you a snug home and plenty of food," they reminded +her. "And the least you can do is to repay him. You ought not to make +trouble by hiding your eggs."</p> + +<p>But Henrietta Hen couldn't—or wouldn't—agree with them.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well for you to talk," she retorted. "If my eggs were +undersized I shouldn't mind losing them as fast as I laid them. But I +lay the biggest and finest eggs to be had. So it's only natural that I +should like to have at least <i>one</i> around to look at—and to show to +callers."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, there were plenty of other hens in the flock that laid eggs exactly +as big—or even bigger—than Henrietta Hen's. Some of them told her as +much. Yet it did them no good to talk to her. She wouldn't believe that +there were any eggs in the world to compare with hers. So her neighbors +learned after a while that they might as well let Henrietta Hen manage +her affairs as she pleased. They couldn't help hoping, however, that +somehow Farmer Green would find a way to outwit her.</p> + +<p>"What can Henrietta Hen be so boastful about now?" the hens asked one +another one day. "She acts as if she thought more highly of herself than +ever."</p> + +<p>They soon discovered the reason for Henrietta's unusually pompous +manner. For she began to make calls on all her friends. And she invited +everybody to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> come to her latest nest high up in the haymow.</p> + +<p>"I've something there to show you," she said with an air of mystery. +"You'll be surprised to see it."</p> + +<p>Most of Henrietta's neighbors did not show any great curiosity to see +the surprise. They smiled at one another. "She's laid another +egg—that's all!" they whispered.</p> + +<p>But there are always some that can't rest until they know everybody +else's business. And it was lucky that Henrietta Hen hurried home to +receive her callers, because she had a good many. They came even earlier +in the afternoon than was strictly fashionable. And they came in a +crowd, too. That, however, didn't bother Henrietta Hen. Nor could they +have arrived too soon to suit her.</p> + +<p>"Look!" she cried, when they reached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> her nest high up in the haymow. +"Did you ever see anything to beat that?"</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r6180" id="r6180"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +<h2>X</h2><h3>THE BIG, WHITE EGG</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Henrietta Hen's callers crowded about her nest in the haymow they +expected to see something wonderful. But when they craned their necks +and peered into the little hollowed-out snuggery in the hay they +couldn't help being disappointed. And when they didn't burst forth with +cries of surprise and praise Henrietta Hen looked quite unhappy.</p> + +<p>"I thought," she said, "you'd want to see this egg. I'm sure you never +beheld a bigger nor a whiter one than this."</p> + +<p>They admitted that the egg was big and that it was very, very white. And +if their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> praise was faint, Henrietta never noticed it.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to let Farmer Green have that egg?" one of the company +inquired.</p> + +<p>"No doubt Johnnie Green will grab it as soon as he finds my nest," said +Henrietta with something like a sigh. "If I could only keep this one I +wouldn't care how many others he took."</p> + +<p>Polly Plymouth Rock turned to old Whitey, a hen who had come with her to +the haymow.</p> + +<p>"What do you think?" Polly asked. "Is Henrietta in danger of losing this +egg that she thinks so much of?"</p> + +<p>"She needn't be alarmed," old Whitey answered. "If Johnnie Green robs +her of this one, I'll miss my guess."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'm glad to hear you say that!" Henrietta Hen cried. "Now I won't +need<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> to worry—that is, if you know what you're talking about."</p> + +<p>That, of course, was a most impolite way for Henrietta Hen to speak to +anybody of old Whitey's age. Whitey was the oldest hen in the flock. And +what she didn't know about such things as nests and eggs and roosts +wasn't worth knowing.</p> + +<p>Polly Plymouth Rock didn't like Henrietta Hen's remark. She opened her +mouth.</p> + +<p>And no doubt she would have said something quite sharp in reply. But old +Whitey stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Never mind!" said Whitey. "The day will come when Henrietta Hen will +agree that my guess is a good one."</p> + +<p>Still Henrietta Hen felt uneasy about that big, white egg.</p> + +<p>"I do hope Johnnie Green won't find this new nest of mine," she +remarked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If he does, I fear he'll take my beautiful egg away from me."</p> + +<p>"Lay another!" said old Whitey. "Lay another and he'll take that and +leave this one."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I may as well try your scheme," Henrietta replied, "since +nobody suggests anything better."</p> + +<p>"My idea's a good one, or I'll miss my guess," said old Whitey.</p> + +<p>There was some snickering among Henrietta Hen's callers as they bade her +good afternoon and left her.</p> + +<p>"They're laughing at old Whitey," she said to herself. She hadn't the +slightest notion that they could be giggling at <i>her</i>. "Old Whitey must +be wrong," she thought. "But I may as well take her advice, for I don't +know what else to do."</p> + +<p>Not long afterward Henrietta Hen came fluttering down from the haymow, +squawking at the top of her lungs for old Whitey. And as soon as she +found her, Henrietta cried, "Come up to my nest right away! I want to +ask your advice."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>Although she didn't say "Please!" old Whitey went with her.</p> + +<div class='figcenter' style='width: 300px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="illus-002" id="illus-002"></a> +<img src='images/illus-050.jpg' width='300' alt='"Come Up to My Nest!" Cried Henrietta Hen. (_Page 50_)' title='' /><br /> +<span class='caption'>"Come Up to My Nest!" Cried Henrietta Hen. (<i>Page 50</i>)</span> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r6183" id="r6183"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +<h2>XI</h2><h3>OLD WHITEY'S ADVICE</h3> +</div> + + +<p>Old Whitey—the most ancient hen in the flock—scrambled with some +difficulty up to the top of the haymow in Farmer Green's barn. She could +scarcely keep up with Henrietta Hen, whom she was following—by request. +And when she arrived, breathless, at Henrietta's nest that proud and +elegant creature turned a troubled face toward her.</p> + +<p>"See!" said Henrietta. "I've taken your advice and laid another egg. But +it's nothing like the beautiful, big, white one. This last egg is much +smaller; and it's brown."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p>Old Whitey nodded her head. "Well!" she said. "What's your difficulty?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you think," said Henrietta, "that if Johnnie Green finds my nest +he'll be sure to take both eggs?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," was old Whitey's blunt answer.</p> + +<p>"Then he'll be sure to take the big, white one," Henrietta Hen wailed.</p> + +<p>"No, he won't," old Whitey told her. "If he does, I'll miss my guess."</p> + +<p>Well, that was really too much for Henrietta Hen to believe.</p> + +<p>"That boy will never take a little egg and leave a big one," she +declared.</p> + +<p>"You wait and see if he doesn't," old Whitey advised her.</p> + +<p>So Henrietta waited. Though she had little faith in old Whitey's advice, +Henrietta could think of nothing else to do. And the next morning, to +her great surprise,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> when Johnnie Green climbed into the haymow and +found her nest he took the small brown egg and put it in his hat. And he +never touched the big, white egg at all. He didn't even pick it up and +look at it!</p> + +<p>Perched on a beam overhead Henrietta Hen watched him breathlessly. And +as soon as he had gone she went flopping down to the barn floor and set +up a great clamor for old Whitey.</p> + +<p>"What is it now?" old Whitey asked, sticking her head inside the +doorway.</p> + +<p>"Your guess was a good one!" cried Henrietta Hen. "He came; and he took +the small one."</p> + +<p>"There!" said old Whtiey. "I told you so! I knew Johnnie Green wouldn't +rob you of that big egg. And if you keep laying small eggs in that same +nest you'll find he'll let you keep the big one."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen fairly beamed at her companion.</p> + +<p>"How delightful!" she exclaimed. "I've become very, very fond of that +big egg. I love to look at it. But there's another thing that worries me +now. If that big egg should get broken—"</p> + +<p>"Don't let that trouble you!" said old Whitey.</p> + +<p>"I'm almost afraid to sit on my nest," Henrietta Hen confessed. "If the +shell of that egg should happen to be thin—"</p> + +<p>Old Whitey seemed much amused by Henrietta's fears.</p> + +<p>"Let me know if you break it," she said. And then she left Henrietta +with her treasure.</p> + +<p>"I'll be very careful," Henrietta called after the old dame.</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r6477" id="r6477"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +<h2>XII</h2><h3>PLAYING TRICKS</h3> +</div> + +<p>Now, the hen known as old Whitey was something of a gossip. She went +straight to the farmyard and told everybody what had happened—what +Henrietta Hen had said to her and what she had said to Henrietta Hen. +The whole flock had a great laugh over the affair.</p> + +<p>To Henrietta Hen's delight, all her neighbors took a keen interest in +the wonderful white egg. They asked her countless questions about it. +Above all, they always took pains to inquire whether she had been so +unlucky as to crack the shell. And if Henrietta hadn't displeased Polly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +Plymouth Rock one day, the truth might never have come out.</p> + +<p>Anyhow, Polly Plymouth Rock told Henrietta Hen that if she had any sense +she would stop making such a fuss over a china egg.</p> + +<p>"China egg!" cried Henrietta. "I don't know what you mean."</p> + +<p>"That's not a real egg that you're so proud of," Polly Plymouth Rock +declared. "It's nothing but a make-believe one. Johnnie Green left it in +your nest to fool you, so you'd keep that nest and lay eggs in it, right +along.... You're so careful not to break that china egg! Why, if you +<i>tried</i> to break it you'd find that it's solid as a rock."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen couldn't believe the terrible news.</p> + +<p>"I laid that egg myself!" she shrieked.</p> + +<p>"You think you did; but you didn't,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> Polly Plymouth Rock snapped. +"Johnnie Green took an egg of yours one day and left that other one in +its place, to deceive you. And everybody on the farm—except you—knows +that he succeeded."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen didn't wait to hear anything more. She rushed squalling +into the barn and went straight to her nest. One good, hard peck at the +big white egg told her beyond all doubt that she had been betrayed. The +beautiful, big, white egg wasn't an egg after all!</p> + +<p>Now that Henrietta Hen knew it she wondered how it could ever have +deceived her. She saw that it was shiny and altogether unlike any egg +she had ever seen anywhere.</p> + +<p>"Johnnie Green has played a mean trick on me," Henrietta Hen cackled. +"And now I'll play one on him! He can have his old china egg. I'll leave +it here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> for him. But he'll find none of <i>my</i> beautiful little brown +eggs beside it. I'll have my nest where he'll never discover it—not if +he hunts for it all summer long!"</p> + +<p>So saying, she left the haymow. And going into the carriage shed, her +roving eyes chanced to light on an old straw hat of Johnnie Green's that +lay upside down upon a high shelf.</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen managed to flutter up beside it. And then with many a +chuckle she laid a brown egg in the hat.</p> + +<p>"There!" she cackled. "This is the safest place on the farm. Johnnie +Green hasn't had this hat on his head since last summer."</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r6351" id="r6351"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +<h2>XIII</h2><h3>TWO IN A GARDEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>Jimmy Rabbit was enjoying a few nibbles at one of Farmer Green's +cabbages. He hadn't noticed that there was anybody but himself in the +garden. So it startled him to hear a shrill voice cry, "Get out of our +garden!"</p> + +<p>Jimmy Rabbit jumped. But he didn't jump far, for he soon saw that it was +only Henrietta Hen speaking to him.</p> + +<p>"Why should I get out of <i>our</i> garden?" Jimmy Rabbit inquired mildly.</p> + +<p>"I should have said, 'Farmer Green's garden,'" said Henrietta Hen.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much for the warning;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> but I don't think we need go away +just yet—if old dog Spot isn't sniffing around," said Jimmy Rabbit. "I +don't believe there's any danger."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," Henrietta Hen cried. "I <i>ordered</i> you out of the +garden."</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> ordered me?" said Jimmy Rabbit, acting as if he were astonished.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Henrietta declared. "And I'd like to know when you're going to +obey me."</p> + +<p>"It's easy to answer that," Jimmy Rabbit replied. "I'm going away as +soon as I've finished my luncheon." Nobody could have been pleasanter +than he. Yet Henrietta Hen seemed determined to be disagreeable.</p> + +<p>"I don't see your lunch basket," she remarked, looking all around.</p> + +<p>"No!" he replied. "I forgot it. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> meant to bring one with me and carry +a cabbage-head home in it."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen spoke as if she were very peevish.</p> + +<p>"You've no right," she said, "to take one of the cabbages away with +you."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to," Jimmy Rabbit explained.</p> + +<p>"You were nibbling at one when I first noticed you," Henrietta Hen +insisted.</p> + +<p>"Was I?" he gasped. "Are you sure you're not mistaken? Are you sure you +weren't pecking at a cabbage-leaf yourself?"</p> + +<p>Now, the truth of the matter was that Henrietta had herself come to the +garden to eat cabbage. Really she was no better than he was. But somehow +Henrietta Hen never could believe that she was in the wrong.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>"You're impertinent," she told Jimmy</p> + +<div class='figcenter' style='width: 300px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="illus-003" id="illus-003"></a> +<img src='images/illus-062.jpg' width='300' alt='Henrietta Hen Scolds Jimmy Rabbit. (_Page 62_)' title='' /><br /> +<span class='caption'>Henrietta Hen Scolds Jimmy Rabbit. (<i>Page 62</i>)</span> +</div> + +<p>Rabbit in her severest tone. "You know very well that Farmer Green +raises these cabbages for home use only."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Jimmy Rabbit, "I'll make myself at home here, then." And +turning a cold shoulder on Henrietta Hen he began nibbling at a +cabbage-leaf once more.</p> + +<p>Henrietta felt quite helpless. Somehow nothing she could say to the +intruder seemed to have the slightest effect on him. And he appeared to +be enjoying his luncheon so thoroughly that it made Henrietta Hen very +hungry just to see him eat. In spite of herself she couldn't resist +joining him at luncheon.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he exclaimed between mouthfuls, "I see you're making yourself at +home, too."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen tried to look very dignified. She pecked at the cabbage in +an absent-minded fashion, pretending that it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> was no treat to her. As a +matter of fact, she had been trying to get a taste of cabbage for a long +while. And this was the first time she had managed to crawl through the +garden fence. "One has to eat something," she murmured.</p> + +<p>Jimmy Rabbit smiled slyly. Henrietta Hen couldn't deceive him. He knew +that she was as fond of cabbage as he was himself.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever hear it said," he asked her suddenly, "that eating too +much cabbage causes long ears?"</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r8636" id="r8636"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +<h2>XIV</h2><h3>EARS—SHORT OR LONG</h3> +</div> + +<p>Henrietta Hen's heart began to thump. She dropped a bit of cabbage out +of her bill, letting it fall as if it burned her. And usually she was +very careful as to her table-manners. "Goodness!" she said to Jimmy +Rabbit, who was busily munching cabbage in Farmer Green's garden. "You +frighten me!"</p> + +<p>He had just asked her this strange question: "Did you ever hear it said +that eating too much cabbage causes long ears?" And Henrietta Hen didn't +want long ears. She knew they would be sure to spoil her beauty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jimmy Rabbit had no time to say anything more to Henrietta Hen. Although +he had not finished his luncheon he left the garden suddenly—and in +great haste. For old dog Spot began barking just beyond the fence; and +Jimmy Rabbit always wanted to get as far from that sound as he could.</p> + +<p>When Spot scurried into the cabbage-patch a little later Henrietta Hen +called to him.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked her impatiently. "I'm in a great hurry. I don't +like to stop."</p> + +<p>"This is a very important matter," said Henrietta Hen. "Do you like +cabbage?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Cabbage?" he repeated after her as a puzzled look came over his face.</p> + +<p>"You needn't act so surprised," Henrietta told him coldly. "You didn't +come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> running into the garden for nothing. And I have reason to believe +that you intended to eat some of Farmer Green's cabbages."</p> + +<p>"What's your reason?" old Spot inquired.</p> + +<p>"You have long ears," said Henrietta.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" cried Spot. "What a person eats doesn't make his ears either +long or short."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure of that?" Henrietta Hen wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"I've never eaten cabbage in all my life," he declared.</p> + +<p>Still she couldn't rid herself of her fears.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she said, "if you had eaten it your ears would have grown +twice as long as they are now."</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "I don't think so," he muttered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's only one way to find out," Henrietta announced. "Eat a lot of +cabbage—all you can! And we'll soon see whether your ears are growing +longer."</p> + +<p>But old dog Spot refused flatly to do anything of the sort. He said that +his ears suited him quite well, just as they were.</p> + +<p>"What!" Henrietta cried. "Wouldn't you eat cabbage to oblige a lady?"</p> + +<p>Old Spot said he was sorry; but he had no liking for cabbage.</p> + +<p>"How can you tell if you've never tasted it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He made no answer to that question. Instead, he asked her one of his +own.</p> + +<p>"Would you like long ears?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"How can you tell if you've never tried wearing any?" he demanded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't be stupid!" she snapped. "None of my family wears ears that can +be seen. What a sight I'd be with long ears! Ears are very ugly things, +and I only hope that I haven't eaten so much cabbage that mine will +begin to grow.... Do you suppose they'd hang down like yours or stick up +like Jimmy Rabbit's? He didn't say anything about that."</p> + +<p>Old dog Spot let out a howl.</p> + +<p>"Jimmy Rabbit!" he growled. "Was he talking with you just before I +arrived?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" said Henrietta. "It was he that asked me if I had ever heard that +eating cabbage made a person's ears grow."</p> + +<p>"I might have known that it was that young Rabbit who put such a silly +notion into your head," Spot grumbled. "If you hadn't stopped me I'd +have stopped <i>him</i> by this time.... But it's too late now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't suppose he was joking, do you?" Henrietta inquired.</p> + +<p>"Of course he was," said Spot—and none too pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"Well," Henrietta mused, as she pecked at a cabbage-leaf, "I must say +that I think the joke's on you."</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r1071" id="r1071"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +<h2>XV</h2><h3>HENRIETTA'S FRIGHT</h3> +</div> + +<p>When the old horse Ebenezer stood in his stall in the barn he was always +glad to talk with anybody that came along.</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen sometimes strolled into the horse-barn to see if she could +find a little grain that had spilled on the floor. So it came about that +she and Ebenezer had many a chat together. Henrietta had no great +opinion of horses. She thought that they had altogether more than their +share of grain.</p> + +<p>But she was willing to pass the time of day with Ebenezer, because he +let her walk right into his stall and pick up tidbits<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> that had dropped +upon the floor beneath his manger.</p> + +<p>It was on such an occasion, on a summer's day, that he said to her with +a sigh, "Haying's going to begin to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen remarked that she wasn't at all interested in the news. +"And I don't see why you should sigh," she added. "Goodness knows you'll +eat your share of the hay—and probably more—before the winter's over."</p> + +<p>"It's the work that I'm thinking of," Ebenezer explained. "They'll hitch +me to the hayrake and Johnnie Green will drive me all day long in the +hot hayfields. I always hate to hear the clatter of the mowing machine," +he groaned. "It means that the hayrake will come out of the shed next."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen caught her breath.</p> + +<p>"The mowing machine!" she gasped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> "Is Farmer Green going to use the +mowing machine now?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" said Ebenezer. "I hear he's going to harness the bays to it +to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"My! my!" Henrietta wailed. "Isn't there any way I can stop him from +doing that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know of any," Ebenezer told her. "I've often felt just as you +do about it. There's nobody that dreads hearing the mowing machine more +than I do."</p> + +<p>"You can't feel the way I do," Henrietta declared.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," the old horse insisted, "I don't see how it can +matter to you in the least. <i>You</i> don't have to pull the mowing machine +nor the hayrake. Besides, didn't you just tell me that my news about +haying didn't interest you?"</p> + +<p>"But it does!" Henrietta cried. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> was mistaken. It means <i>everything</i> +to me. It's the worst news I ever heard in all my life."</p> + +<p>Old Ebenezer looked down at her with mild astonishment on his long, +honest face.</p> + +<p>"Why is it bad news?" he inquired. "If you'll tell me, perhaps I can +help you."</p> + +<p>So Henrietta Hen explained her difficulty. Whatever it was, it amazed +Ebenezer. And he had to admit that he could think of no way out of the +trouble.</p> + +<p>"It was very, very careless of you," he told Henrietta. Then suddenly he +had a happy thought. "Cheer up!" he cried. "If Farmer Green sits on +them, maybe they'll hatch."</p> + +<p>"Hatch!" she groaned. "They'll <i>break</i>!"</p> + +<p>And she ran out of the stall and hurried into the yard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was just in time to hear Farmer Green calling to his son Johnnie.</p> + +<p>"Look here!" said he. "I started to oil the mowing machine so I could +use it to-morrow; and just see what I found in the seat!"</p> + +<p>Johnnie Green came a-running. And there in the seat of the mowing +machine, nestling in the hay which had been put there for a cushion the +summer before, three eggs greeted Johnnie's eyes.</p> + +<p>"They must belong to the speckled hen," Johnnie decided. "I knew she'd +stolen her nest again. I couldn't find it anywhere." He picked up the +eggs and put them in his hat. "She's a sly one," he said.</p> + +<p>That remark made Henrietta Hen somewhat angry. At the same time she was +glad that Farmer Green had discovered the eggs before it was too late. +She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> wouldn't have liked him to sit on them.</p> + +<p>It always upset her to see her eggs broken.</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r8344" id="r8344"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +<h2>XVI</h2><h3>THE ROOSTER UPSET</h3> +</div> + +<p>During the summer Henrietta Hen roamed about the farmyard as she +pleased. To be sure, she always came a-running at feeding time. But +except when there was something there to eat, she didn't go near the +henhouse. She "stole her nest," to use Johnnie Green's words, now in one +place and now in another. And at night she roosted on any handy place in +the barn or the haymow, under the carriage-shed or even over the +pigpens.</p> + +<p>However, when the nights began to grow chilly Henrietta was glad enough +to creep into the henhouse with her companions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> She always retired +early. And being a good sleeper, she slept usually until the Rooster +began to crow towards dawn. Of course now and then some fidgetty hen +fancied that she heard a fox prowling about and waked everybody else +with her squalls.</p> + +<p>Such interruptions upset Henrietta. After the flock had gone to sleep +again Henrietta Hen was more than likely to dream that Fatty Coon was in +the henhouse. And she would squawk right out and start another +commotion.</p> + +<p>Luckily such disturbances didn't happen every night. Often nothing +occurred to break the silence of the henhouse. And Henrietta would dream +only of pleasant things, such as cracked corn, or crisp cabbage-leaves, +or bone meal. After dreams of that sort Henrietta couldn't always be +sure, when the Rooster waked her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> with his crowing, that she hadn't +already breakfasted. But she would peck at her breakfast, when feeding +time came, and if it tasted good she would know then that the other food +had been nothing but a dream.</p> + +<p>One night, soon after she had gone back to roost in the henhouse, it +seemed to Henrietta that she had scarcely fallen asleep when the Rooster +crowed.</p> + +<p>She awoke with a start.</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" she exclaimed under her breath. "I must have slept soundly, +for I haven't dreamed a single dream all night long." Then she noticed +that none of the other hens had stirred. "Lazy bones!" Henrietta +remarked to the Rooster. "You won't get 'em up in a hurry. They, don't +hear you at all."</p> + +<p>To her surprise she received no answer.</p> + +<p>"He couldn't have heard me," she said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> to herself. So she repeated her +speech in a louder tone. And still the Rooster made no reply. Henrietta +couldn't understand it, he was always so polite to the ladies. Could it +be that he was snubbing her?</p> + +<p>Henrietta grew a bit angry as that thought popped into her head.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" she snapped. "Have you lost your voice? It was loud +enough to wake me up a few moments ago."</p> + +<p>Receiving no response whatsoever, Henrietta completely lost her temper. +"I'll see what's wrong with you!" she cackled. And throwing herself off +her roost, though it was dark as a pocket in the henhouse, she flung +herself upon the perch just opposite, where she knew the Rooster had +slept.</p> + +<p>It was no wonder that Henrietta Hen blundered in the dark. It was no +wonder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> that she missed her way and stumbled squarely into the Rooster, +knocking him headlong on the floor.</p> + +<p>He set up a terrible clamor. And he made Henrietta Hen angrier than +ever, for he cried out in a loud voice something that would have +displeased anybody. "A skunk is after me!" he bawled.</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r8731" id="r8731"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +<h2>XVII</h2><h3>A SIGN OF RAIN</h3> +</div> + +<p>There was a terrible hubbub in the henhouse. The Rooster squalled so +loudly that he waked up every hen in the place. And when they heard him +crying that a skunk had knocked him off his roost they were as +frightened as he was, and set up a wild cackle. All but Henrietta Hen! +She knew there was no skunk there.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a goose—er—don't be a gander!" she hissed to the Rooster. +"I'm the one that bumped into you."</p> + +<p>The Rooster quickly came to his senses.</p> + +<p>"Don't be alarmed, ladies!" he called to the flock. "There's no danger.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +There's been a slight mistake." He pretended that he hadn't been scared. +But he had been. And now he was somewhat uneasy about Henrietta Hen. He +feared he was in for a scolding from her.</p> + +<p>"If you had answered me when I spoke to you I wouldn't have left my +perch in the dark," she told the Rooster severely. "When I moved to your +perch to see what was the matter I blundered into you. And then you +thought I was a skunk! You owe me an apology, sir!"</p> + +<p>The Rooster was glad it was not lighter in the henhouse, for he felt +himself flushing hotly.</p> + +<p>"You must pardon me," he said. "I had no idea it was you, for you waked +me out of a sound sleep."</p> + +<p>"Sound sleep, indeed!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed with a sniff. "Why, you +had been crowing only a few moments before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> In fact it was your crowing +that roused me."</p> + +<p>"No doubt!" said the Rooster. "But you see, I fell asleep again +immediately."</p> + +<p>"Then you must be ill," Henrietta retorted, "for I've never known you to +go to sleep again, once you've begun your morning's crowing."</p> + +<p>"But it's not morning now," the Rooster informed her. "It's not even +late at night—certainly not an hour since sunset."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen was astonished.</p> + +<p>"I noticed that the night seemed short," she muttered.</p> + +<p>The Rooster thought it a great joke.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!" he laughed. And he said to the rest of the flock, with a +chuckle, "Henrietta thought it was morning! No doubt she'd have gone out +into the yard if the door hadn't been shut." And the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> other hens all +tittered. They always did, if the rooster expected them to.</p> + +<p>Well, if there was one thing that Henrietta Hen couldn't endure, it was +to be laughed at.</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly!" she cried. "Why shouldn't I think it was morning, when +he crowed almost in my ear?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know why I crowed?" the Rooster asked her. And without +waiting for any reply, he said, "I crowed to let Farmer Green know it +was going to rain to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Of course Henrietta Hen had to have the last word. The Rooster might +have known she would.</p> + +<p>"Then," she observed, "I suppose you squawked to let him know there was +a skunk in the henhouse."</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r4542" id="r4542"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +<h2>XVIII</h2><h3>IN NEED OF ADVICE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Something was troubling Henrietta Hen. She seemed to have some secret +sorrow. No longer did she move with her well-known queenly manner among +her neighbors in the farmyard. Instead, she spent a good deal of her +time moping. And no one could guess the reason. She didn't even care to +talk to anybody—not even to boast about her fine, speckled coat. And +that certainly was not in the least like Henrietta Hen.</p> + +<p>Always, before, Henrietta had seized every chance to parade before the +public. Now she seemed to crave privacy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>What was the matter? To tell the truth, Henrietta Hen herself did not +know the answer to that question. That is to say, she did not know <i>why</i> +a certain thing was so. She only knew that a great misfortune had +befallen her. And she dreaded to tell anybody about it.</p> + +<p>To be sure, there was old Whitey—a hen who had lived on the farm longer +than any other. Most members of the flock often asked her advice. Even +Henrietta herself had done that. But this difficulty was something she +didn't want to mention to a neighbor. If there were only somebody +outside the flock to whom she could go for help! But she knew of no one.</p> + +<p>Then Henrietta happened to hear of Aunt Polly Woodchuck. The Muley Cow, +who went to the pasture every day, mentioned Aunt Polly's name to +Henrietta.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> According to the Muley Cow, Aunt Polly Woodchuck was an herb +doctor—and a good one, too. No matter what might be troubling a person, +Aunt Polly was sure to have something right in her basket to cure it.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see her," Henrietta Hen had said. "But I can't go way up in +the pasture, under the hill."</p> + +<p>"Could you go to the end of the lane?" the Muley Cow inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Then I'll ask Aunt Polly Woodchuck to meet you by the bars to-morrow +morning," the Muley Cow promised.</p> + +<p>That suited Henrietta Hen.</p> + +<p>"I'll be there—if it doesn't rain," she agreed.</p> + +<p>Early the next day she followed the cows through the lane. And she +hadn't waited long at the bars when Aunt Polly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> Woodchuck came hobbling +up to her. Being a very old lady, Aunt Polly was somewhat lame. But she +was spry, for all that. And her eyes were as bright as buttons.</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen saw at once that Aunt Polly was hopelessly old-fashioned. +She carried a basket on her arm, and a stick in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, dearie! Here you are!" cried Aunt Polly Woodchuck. "The +Muley Cow tells me you're feeling poorly. Do tell me all about yourself! +]No +doubt I've something in my basket that will do you a world of good."</p> + +<div class='figcenter' style='width: 300px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="illus-004" id="illus-004"></a> +<img src='images/illus-091.jpg' width='300' alt='"Don't Worry!" Said Aunt Polly Woodchuck. (_Page 91_)' title='' /><br /> +<span class='caption'>"Don't Worry!" Said Aunt Polly Woodchuck. (<i>Page 91</i>)</span> +</div> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r5220" id="r5220"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +<h2>XIX</h2><h3>AUNT POLLY HELPS</h3> +</div> + +<p>Somehow Henrietta Hen couldn't help liking Aunt Polly Woodchuck, in +spite of her old-fashioned appearance. She certainly had a way with +her—a way that made a person <i>want</i> to tell her his troubles.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether you can help me or not," said Henrietta Hen. "Have +you any feathers in your basket?"</p> + +<p>"No—no! No feathers!" Aunt Polly replied. "I use herbs in my business +of doctoring. But I've heard that a burnt feather held under a body's +nose will do wonders sometimes.... I must always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> carry a feather in my +basket, hereafter."</p> + +<p>"<i>One</i> feather wouldn't do me any good," said Henrietta Hen with a +doleful sigh. "I need a great many more than one."</p> + +<p>"You do?" Aunt Polly cried.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Henrietta answered. "Half my feathers have dropped off me. And +that's why I've come to ask your advice. I'm fast losing my fatal +beauty."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen's voice trembled as she told Aunt Polly Woodchuck the +dreadful news. "I don't believe you'll be able to help me," she +quavered. "I'll soon look like a perfect fright. Besides, winter's +coming; and how I'll ever keep warm with no feathers is more than I +know."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen couldn't understand how Aunt Polly managed to stay so +calm. Henrietta had expected her to throw up her hands and say something +like "Sakes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> alive!" or "Mercy on us!" But the old lady did nothing of +the sort.</p> + +<p>She set her basket down on the ground; and pushing her spectacles +forward to the end of her nose, she leaned over and looked closely at +Henrietta Hen. Aunt Polly's gaze travelled over Henrietta from head to +foot and then back again. And she took hold of one of Henrietta's +feathers and gave it a gentle twitch.</p> + +<p>"Look out!" Henrietta cried. "You'll pull it out if you're not careful. +And I can't afford to lose any more feathers than I have to."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry!" Aunt Polly Woodchuck advised her. "Cheer up! There's +nothing the matter with you. You are molting. You are going to get a new +outfit of feathers for winter. Your old ones have to fall out in order +to make room for the new. And no doubt the fresh ones<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> will be much +handsomer than the old."</p> + +<p>Henrietta couldn't believe that Aunt Polly knew what she was talking +about.</p> + +<p>"I can't be molting as early in the fall as this," she protested. "I've +never got my winter feathers so soon.... I fear you're mistaken," she +told Aunt Polly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I'm not mistaken," Aunt Polly Woodchuck insisted. "I know it's +early for molting—but haven't you noticed that the wheat grew big this +year, and that the bark on young trees is thick? And haven't you +observed that Frisky Squirrel is laying up a great store of nuts in his +hollow tree, and that the hornets built their paper houses far from the +ground this summer?"</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen's mouth fell open as she stared at Aunt Polly Woodchuck. +And when the old lady paused, Henrietta looked quite bewildered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know what you're talking about," she murmured. "I don't see +what all this has to do with molting."</p> + +<p>"Some of those signs," Aunt Polly explained, "mean an early winter; and +some of 'em mean a cold one. I've never known 'em to fail. And you're +molting early so you'll have a good warm coat of feathers by the time +winter comes."</p> + +<p>Well, Henrietta Hen began to feel better at once. She actually +smiled—something she had not done for days.</p> + +<p>"Thank you! Thank you!" she said. "You're a fine doctor, Aunt Polly. I +don't wonder that folks ask your advice—especially when there's nothing +the matter with them!"</p> + +<p>And then Henrietta Hen hurried off down the lane. Being timid about +hawks, she never felt quite comfortable far from the farmyard.</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r3635" id="r3635"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +<h2>XX</h2><h3>A GREAT FLURRY</h3> +</div> + +<p>There was a great flurry among Farmer Green's hens. They all insisted on +talking at the same time, because they had heard an astonishing bit of +news. It was about Henrietta Hen. Wherever she went her neighbors craned +their necks at her, just as if they hadn't seen her every day for as +long as they could remember.</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen enjoyed the notice that everybody took of her. She went to +some trouble to move about a good deal, so that all might have a chance +to stare at her. For if there was one thing she liked, it was +attention.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a reason why Henrietta had suddenly become the most talked-of +member of the flock. She was going to the county fair! Furthermore, she +expected to take all her children with her. There wasn't the least doubt +that it was all true. The whole flock had heard Johnnie Green and his +father talking about it.</p> + +<p>Of course everybody asked Henrietta Hen a great number of questions. +When was she going to leave? How long did she expect to stay at the +fair? What did she intend to do there? Would she wear her best clothes +if it rained? There was no end to such inquiries.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, Henrietta Hen could answer very few of them. Never having +visited a fair, she had no idea what a fair was like. She only guessed +that when the time came, she and her family would be put into a pen, +loaded upon a wagon, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> jolted over the road that led to the fair, +wherever it might be.</p> + +<p>But Henrietta didn't intend to let her neighbors find out how little she +knew about fairs. She said that before starting she expected to wait for +the wagon, that she hoped to stay at the fair as long as it lasted +(because she didn't want to miss anything!) and that she intended to +come home when the wagon brought her. Furthermore, she planned to wear +her best apron, anyhow, because there was sure to be fair weather at a +fair! How could it be otherwise?</p> + +<p>Old Ebenezer, the horse, told her to be sure to see the races.</p> + +<p>"They're the best part of a fair," he said. "In my younger days I used +to take part in them." And then he added, "There's nothing else at a +fair that's worth looking at."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What about the poultry show?" Henrietta Hen asked him. She didn't know +what poultry shows were; but she had heard Farmer Green mention them.</p> + +<p>"I never paid any attention to the poultry exhibit," the horse Ebenezer +replied. "I never took part in that. I suppose it might interest you, +however."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen smiled a knowing sort of smile. And she remarked to Polly +Plymouth Rock, who stood near her, that she didn't believe the old horse +knew a race from a poultry show. "If he ever went to a fair, I dare say +he was hitched outside the fence," she sniffed.</p> + +<p>Polly Plymouth Rock cackled with amusement. And she said something that +displeased Henrietta Hen exceedingly.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to take that duckling that you hatched out?" she asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" Henrietta snapped. "Please—Miss Plymouth Rock—never +mention him again! I'm going to the fair, among strangers. And I +shouldn't care to have them know about that accident that happened to +me—not for anything!"</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r6204" id="r6204"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +<h2>XXI</h2><h3>OFF FOR THE FAIR</h3> +</div> + +<p>It seemed to Henrietta Hen that the time for the fair would never come. +She had begun to feel somewhat uneasy, because she had talked so much +about visiting the fair with her children that it would be very awkward +if she didn't go. So she was delighted one day by the noise of hammering +and sawing that came from the workbench at the end of the wagon-shed. A +merry noise it was, to Henrietta's ears; for she guessed at once what +was happening. Farmer Green and his son were building a pen in which she +and her family were to ride to the fair!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<p>The news spread like fire in sun-dried grass. Henrietta Hen took pains +that it should. She told everybody she saw that she expected to leave at +any moment. And she began to say good-by to all her friends.</p> + +<p>Since Henrietta didn't start for the fair that day, before nightfall she +had bade every one farewell at least a dozen times. And when, the +following dawn, Henrietta started the day not by saying "Good morning!" +but by bidding her neighbors "Good-by!" once more, they began to think +her a bit tiresome.</p> + +<p>"What! Haven't you gone yet?" they asked her.</p> + +<p>"No! But I expect to leave at any moment," Henrietta told them. She was +so excited that she couldn't eat her breakfast. But her chicks had no +such trouble. And perhaps it was just as well that Henrietta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> Hen had +her hands full looking after them and trying to keep them all under her +eye, and spick-and-span for the journey. Otherwise she would have been +in more of a flutter than she was.</p> + +<p>While Henrietta had an eye on her children, she tried to keep the other +on the barn. And after what seemed to her hours of watching and waiting, +she saw Johnnie Green lead the old horse Ebenezer out of the door, with +his harness on. Henrietta promptly forgot her stately manners. She ran +squalling across the farmyard and called to Ebenezer, "Where are you +going?"</p> + +<p>"I understand that I'm going to the fair," he told her, as Johnnie Green +backed him between the thills of a wagon. "Once I would have been +hitched to a light buggy, with a sulky tied behind it. But now I've got +to take you and your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> family in this rattlety old contraption."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen didn't wait to hear any more. She turned and hurried back, +to gather her youngsters and bid everybody another farewell.</p> + +<p>Amid a great clucking and squawking, Johnnie Green and his father put +Henrietta and her chicks into the pen and placed it in the back of the +wagon.</p> + +<p>"We're all ready!" Henrietta cried to Ebenezer. The old horse didn't +even turn his head, for he could see backwards as well as forwards, +because he wore no blinders. He made no direct reply to Henrietta, +though he gave a sort of grunt, as if the whole affair did not please +him. He knew that it was a long distance to the fairgrounds and the road +was hilly.</p> + +<p>"<i>She</i> thinks it a lark," he said to the dog Spot, who hung about as if +he were waiting for something. "She's lucky,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> for she won't have to go +on her own legs, for miles and miles."</p> + +<p>"That's just what I intend to do," Spot informed him. "They don't mean +to take me. But I'm going to follow you, right under the wagon, where +Johnnie Green and his father can't see me."</p> + +<p>So they started off. And they had scarcely passed through the gate when +Henrietta began to clamor in her shrillest tones. But nobody paid any +heed to her. The wagon clattered off down the road. And old dog Spot +smiled to himself as he trotted along beneath it.</p> + +<p>"Henrietta just remembered that she forgot to put on her best apron," he +chuckled.</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r7572" id="r7572"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +<h2>XXII</h2><h3>ALMOST HOMESICK</h3> +</div> + +<p>Never in all her life had Henrietta Hen seen so many hens and roosters +and chicks as she found on every side of her, at the fair. Farmer Green +and his son Johnnie had set her pen in the Poultry Hall. And to +Henrietta's surprise, none of her new neighbors paid much attention to +her and her chicks—at first. She soon decided that there was a reason +for this neglect. She made up her mind that she would have to make +herself heard amid all that uproar or the others would never know she +had arrived.</p> + +<p>Luckily Henrietta had a strong voice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> She used it to the utmost. And it +wasn't long before a huge hen in a pen next hers gave her a bold look +and asked, "What are you here for?"</p> + +<p>"I've come to get the first prize," Henrietta answered calmly. She had +listened carefully to what Farmer Green and Johnnie had said to each +other during the journey from the farm. And already she knew something +about fairs.</p> + +<p>Her new neighbor laughed right in Henrietta's face.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how you can win the first prize," she said with a sniff. +"I'm going to get the first prize myself. There never was another such +fine family as mine." She glanced proudly at her chicks as she spoke. +"The best you can hope for," she told Henrietta, "is the second prize. +And you'll be lucky if you get the third."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>For once Henrietta Hen was at a loss for a retort.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you've ever been at a fair before," her new neighbor +observed.</p> + +<p>Henrietta admitted faintly that she hadn't.</p> + +<p>"Last year I won second prize," said the other. "I'd have had the first +if the judges had known their business."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen began to feel very shaky in her legs. She had expected a +different sort of greeting, when she should arrive at the fair. She had +thought everybody would exclaim, "Here comes Henrietta Hen! What a fine +family of chicks she has! And aren't Mrs. Hen's speckles beautiful?"</p> + +<p>And there she was, with nobody paying any heed to her, except the lofty +dame in the next pen, who had said nothing very agreeable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" Henrietta sighed. "I wish I'd never left home."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" her neighbor inquired in a sharp tone. "You aren't +homesick, are you?"</p> + +<p>"N-no!" said Henrietta. "But I had expected to win the first prize. And +I don't know what my friends will say when I come back home without it."</p> + +<p>"Well, everybody can't win it," said her new acquaintance. "Not the same +year, anyhow!" And then she looked Henrietta up and down for a few +moments, while Henrietta squirmed uneasily. "Where do you come from?" +she asked at last.</p> + +<p>"I live on Farmer Green's place, in Pleasant Valley," Henrietta informed +her.</p> + +<p>The lady in the next pen shook her head. "I've never heard of Pleasant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +Valley," she remarked, "nor of Farmer Green. He must be small potatoes."</p> + +<p>Well, Henrietta was astonished. She began to feel as if she were nobody +at all. She had supposed that everybody knew of Pleasant Valley—and of +Farmer Green, too. As for the remark, "small potatoes," she didn't +understand it at all. So she inquired what it meant.</p> + +<p>"It means," said her neighbor, "that Farmer Green can't be of much +account."</p> + +<p>That speech made Henrietta Hen almost lose her temper.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Green," she cried, "is a fine man. And I'll have you know that I +wouldn't live anywhere but on his farm!"</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r1710" id="r1710"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +<h2>XXIII</h2><h3>GETTING ACQUAINTED</h3> +</div> + +<p>Not liking her neighbor on her right, at the fair, Henrietta Hen sidled +up to the wire netting on the opposite side of her pen. Peering through +it, she examined the person whom she saw just beyond, in a pen of her +own.</p> + +<p>A very sleek hen was this, who gave Henrietta a slight nod.</p> + +<p>"We may as well speak," she said, "since we're to live next to each +other for a week."</p> + +<p>"A week!" Henrietta groaned. "Shall I have to stay cooped up here as +long as that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes!" said Neighbor Number 2. "And I don't blame you for feeling as you +seem to. A week is a long time for everybody here—except me."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen didn't understand her.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to win the first prize—with my chicks," Neighbor Number 2 +announced. "Of course <i>that's</i> worth waiting here a week."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how <i>you</i> can win the first prize!" Henrietta exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" demanded the other. And she pressed against the wire netting +of her pen and stuck her head through it as far as she could, as if she +would have pecked Henrietta had she been able to.</p> + +<p>"Because—" Henrietta explained—"because the lady on the other side of +me is going to win it."</p> + +<p>"Who said so?"</p> + +<p>"She did," Henrietta answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!" cackled Neighbor Number 2. "That's a good joke. She hasn't any +more chance of winning than—than <i>you</i> have!"</p> + +<p>Now, Henrietta Hen couldn't help being puzzled. But whoever might win +the first prize, she was sure it couldn't be she. Hadn't her neighbors +on either side of her the same as told her that she couldn't win?</p> + +<p>Henrietta would have felt quite glum, except that she couldn't very well +mope in the midst of the terrific racket all about her. Soon her +neighbors—both Number 1 and Number 2—were having loud disputes with +the hens in the pens on the further side of them. It seemed as if every +hen at the fair had left her manners at home—if she ever had any.</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" Henrietta Hen murmured to herself. "If there's a prize, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +must be for the one that can make the most noise."</p> + +<p>In a little while throngs of men, women and children crowded into the +Poultry Hall. They paused before the pens and looked at the occupants, +making remarks that were sometimes full of praise and sometimes +slighting.</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen felt terribly uneasy when people began to stop and stare +at her. She dreaded to hear what they would say. After the way her +next-door neighbors had talked to her she didn't believe anybody would +have a word of praise for her.</p> + +<p>She soon heard all sorts of remarks about herself. Some said she was too +little and some said she was too big; others exclaimed that her legs +were too short, while still others declared that they were too long! As +these—and many similar—comments<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> fell upon Henrietta's ears she +promptly decided that there wasn't anything about her that was as it +should be.</p> + +<p>Having always called herself (before she left home) a "speckled beauty," +she began to feel very low in her mind. And there was only one thing +that kept her from being downright sad. All the sightseers agreed that +she had some pretty chicks.</p> + +<p>Henrietta couldn't help wishing that they had a different mother—one +that was worthy of them.</p> + + +<hr class="major" /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="r7625" id="r7625"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +<h2>XXIV</h2><h3>WINNING FIRST PRIZE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Henrietta Hen was waiting as patiently as she could for the fair to come +to an end. She tried to close her ears to the boasts of her neighbors on +either side of her, that they were going to win the first prize. She had +heard too many unpleasant remarks about herself to have even the +slightest hope of winning any prize at all—let alone the first.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, we'll be going home tonight," Henrietta said to herself. "And +I'll never, never, never come to another fair. I'll go and hide 'way up +high in the haymow where they can't find me before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> I'll spend another +week in a place like this."</p> + +<p>While she was muttering under her breath like that some men came up to +her pen. And Henrietta Hen promptly squatted down in the furthest corner +of it, hoping they wouldn't say anything disagreeable about her. She +felt that she had already heard about all she could stand. She didn't +even look at her callers. And soon they moved away.</p> + +<p>Then Henrietta glanced up. She noticed something blue dangling from the +front of her pen. And there was a greater commotion than ever on all +sides of her.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she cried. "What has happened?"</p> + +<p>Neighbor Number 1, on her right, shot a spiteful look at her.</p> + +<p>"Those stupid judges!" she spluttered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> "They've made a terrible +blunder. They've gone and given you and your chicks the first prize. And +of course it was meant for me and mine!"</p> + +<p>"It wasn't!" screamed Neighbor Number 2 (on Henrietta's left). "That +prize was intended for me and my children!"</p> + +<p>"Who won second and third?" cried a noisy hen from across the way.</p> + +<p>"They're both at the other end of the hall!" somebody shrieked.</p> + +<p>"It's an outrage! It isn't fair! We've been cheated!" Henrietta Hen's +nearest neighbors clamored. But nobody paid any attention to them.</p> + +<p>As for Henrietta, she didn't quite know how to act. She had intended, +when she left home, to do a good deal of strutting back and forth in her +pen, with now and then a pause to preen herself, to make sure that she +looked her best. But somehow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> she no longer cared to put on grand airs, +as of old. She remembered that some of the other hens at the fair had +been haughty and proud and had smoothed their feathers, declaring boldly +that they expected to win the first prize.</p> + +<p>Henrietta had heard it said that fine feathers don't make fine birds. +And she knew at last what that meant. It meant that gay clothes and +lofty ways and boastful talk were of no account at all.</p> + +<p>So Henrietta tried to behave as if nothing unusual had happened. She +told her chicks that they were going home that evening, and that she +would be glad to be back on the farm again, among plain home-folks.</p> + +<p>At last Johnnie Green and his father came to load Henrietta and her +family into the wagon.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the old horse Ebenezer to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> Henrietta. "Did you enjoy the +races?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't have a chance to see them," she replied.</p> + +<p>"That's a pity," he told her. And then he asked her, "What's that blue +tag hanging from your pen?"</p> + +<p>"That—" said Henrietta—"that means that my chicks won the first +prize."</p> + +<p>"She helped win it herself," cried old dog Spot, who was yelping about +the wagon. "Our little speckled hen was the best hen at the fair!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" Henrietta exclaimed. But, all the same, she couldn't help +being pleased.</p> + +<p style="text-align:center"><br/><br/>THE END<br/></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p style="text-align:center"> +<span style="font-size:160%">SLUMBER-TOWN TALES</span><br/> +<span style="font-size:70%">(Trademark Registered.)</span><br/> +<span style="font-size:80%">By ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY</span><br/> +<span style="font-size:80%">AUTHOR OF THE</span><br /> +<span style="font-size:80%">SLEEPY-TIME TALES and TUCK-ME-IN TALES</span><br /> +<span style="font-size:80%">Colored Wrapper and Text Illustrations Drawn by HARRY L. SMITH</span> +</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>These are fascinating stories of farmyard folk for boys and girls from +about four to eight years of age.</p> + +<p>THE TALE OF MISS KITTY CAT</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Rat saw Miss Kitty Cat washing her face, she knew it meant +rain. And she wouldn't let her husband leave home without his umbrella.</p> + +<p>THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen was an empty-headed creature with strange notions. She +never laid an egg without making a great fuss about it.</p> + +<p>THE TALE OF THE MULEY COW</p> + +<p>The Muley Cow belonged to Johnnie Green. He often milked her; and she +seldom put her foot in the milk pail.</p> + +<p>THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT</p> + +<p>A vain fellow was Turkey Proudfoot. He loved to strut about the farmyard +and spread his tail, which he claimed was the most elegant one in the +neighborhood.</p> + +<p>THE TALE OF PONY TWINKLEHEELS</p> + +<p>Pony Twinkleheels trotted so fast you could scarcely tell one foot from +another. Everybody had to step lively to get out of his way.</p> + +<p>THE TALE OF OLD DOG SPOT</p> + +<p>Old dog Spot had a keen nose. He was always ready to chase the wild +folk. And he always looked foolish when they got away from him.</p> + +<p>THE TALE OF GRUNTY PIG</p> + +<p>Grunty pig was a great trial to his mother. He found it hard not to put +his feet right in the feeding trough at meal time.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p style="text-align:center;"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York.</span></p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<p style="text-align:center"> +<span style="font-size:160%">SLUMBER-TOWN TALES</span><br/> +<span style="font-size:70%">(Trademark Registered.)</span><br/> +<span style="font-size:80%">By ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY</span><br/> +<span style="font-size:80%">AUTHOR OF THE</span><br /> +<span style="font-size:80%">SLEEPY-TIME TALES and TUCK-ME-IN TALES</span><br /> +<span style="font-size:80%">Colored Wrapper and Text Illustrations Drawn by HARRY L. SMITH</span> +</p> +<hr class='minor' /> +<p>This series of animal stories for children from three to eight years, +tells of the adventures of the four-footed creatures of our American +woods and fields in an amusing way, which delights small two-footed +human beings.</p> + +<p> +THE TALE OF CUFFY BEAR<br /> +THE TALE OF FRISKY SQUIRREL<br /> +THE TALE OF TOMMY FOX<br /> +THE TALE OF FATTY COON<br /> +THE TALE OF BILLY WOODCHUCK<br /> +THE TALE OF JIMMY RABBIT<br /> +THE TALE OF PETER MINK<br /> +THE TALE OF SANDY CHIPMUNK<br /> +THE TALE OF BROWNIE BEAVER<br /> +THE TALE OF PADDY MUSKRAT<br /> +THE TALE OF FERDINAND FROG<br /> +THE TALE OF DICKIE DEER MOUSE<br /> +THE TALE OF TIMOTHY TURTLE<br /> +THE TALE OF BENNY BADGER<br /> +THE TALE OF MAJOR MONKEY<br /> +THE TALE OF GRUMPY WEASEL<br /> +THE TALE OF GRANDFATHER MOLE<br /> +THE TALE OF MASTER MEADOW MOUSE<br /> +</p> +<hr class='minor' /> +<p style="text-align:center;"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3> +<p>1. Punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards.</p> +<p>2. Frontispiece illustration relocated to after title page.</p> +<p>3. Typographic error corrected in original:<br/> + p. 53 "Whtiey" to "Whitey" ("said old Whitey.")<br/> +</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Henrietta Hen, by Arthur Scott Bailey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN *** + +***** This file should be named 18652-h.htm or 18652-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/6/5/18652/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tale of Henrietta Hen + +Author: Arthur Scott Bailey + +Illustrator: Harry L. Smith + +Release Date: June 22, 2006 [EBook #18652] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +_SLUMBER-TOWN TALES_ +_(Trademark Registered)_ + +THE TALE OF +HENRIETTA HEN + +BY +ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY + +Author of +"SLEEPY-TIME TALES" +(Trademark Registered) +"TUCK-ME-IN TALES" +(Trademark Registered) + +ILLUSTRATED BY +HARRY L. SMITH + +NEW YORK +GROSSET & DUNLAP +PUBLISHERS + +Made in the United States of America + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +Copyright, 1921, By +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +[Illustration: Henrietta Hen is Afraid the Duck Will Drown. (_Page 14_)] + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER PAGE + I A SPECKLED BEAUTY 1 + II A FINE FAMILY 6 + III WET FEET 11 + IV A SWIMMER 15 + V CAUGHT BY MR. CROW 20 + VI HENRIETTA COMPLAINS 26 + VII WARNING THE ROOSTER 31 + VIII WHY THE ROOSTER CROWED 36 + IX HAUGHTY HENRIETTA 41 + X THE BIG, WHITE EGG 46 + XII PLAYING TRICKS 55 + XIII TWO IN A GARDEN 59 + XIV EARS--SHORT OR LONG 64 + XV HENRIETTA'S FRIGHT 70 + XVI THE ROOSTER UPSET 76 + XVII A SIGN OF RAIN 81 + XVIII IN NEED OF ADVICE 85 + XIX AUNT POLLY HELPS 89 + XX A GREAT FLURRY 94 + XXI OFF FOR THE FAIR 99 + XXII ALMOST HOMESICK 104 + XXIII GETTING ACQUAINTED 109 + XXIV WINNING FIRST PRIZE 114 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +Henrietta Hen is Afraid the Duck Will Drown. (_Page 14_) Frontispiece +"Come Up to My Nest!" Cried Henrietta Hen. (_Page 50_) 51 +Henrietta Hen Scolds Jimmy Rabbit. (_Page 62_) 62 +"Don't Worry!" Said Aunt Polly Woodchuck. (_Page 91_) 89 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + +THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN + +I + +A SPECKLED BEAUTY + + +Henrietta Hen thought highly of herself. Not only did she consider +herself a "speckled beauty" (to use her own words) but she had an +excellent opinion of her own ways, her own ideas--even of her own +belongings. When she pulled a fat worm--or a grub--out of the ground she +did it with an air of pride; and she was almost sure to say, "There! I'd +like to see anybody else find a bigger one than that!" + +Of course, it wouldn't really have pleased her at all to have one of her +neighbors do better than she did. That was only her way of boasting that +no one could beat her. + +If any one happened to mention speckles Henrietta Hen was certain to +speak of her own, claiming that they were the handsomest and most speckly +to be found in Pleasant Valley. And if a person chanced to say anything +about combs, Henrietta never failed to announce that hers was the reddest +and most beautiful in the whole world. + +Nobody could ever find out how she knew that. She had never been off the +farm. But it was useless to remind her that she had never travelled. Such +a remark only made her angry. + +Having such a good opinion of herself, Henrietta Hen always had a great +deal to talk about. She kept up a constant cluck from dawn till dusk. It +made no difference to her whether she happened to be alone, or with +friends. She talked just the same--though naturally she preferred to have +others hear what she said, because she considered her remarks most +important. + +There were times when Henrietta Hen took pains that all her neighbors +should hear her. She was never so proud as when she had a newly-laid egg +to exhibit. Then an ordinary cluck was not loud enough to express her +feelings. To announce such important news Henrietta Hen never failed to +raise her voice in a high-pitched "Cut-cut-cut, ca-dah-cut!" This +interesting speech she always repeated several times. For she wanted +everybody to know that Henrietta Hen had laid another of her famous eggs. + +After such an event she always went about asking people if they had heard +the news--just as if they could have _helped_ hearing her silly racket! + +Now, it sometimes happened, when she was on such an errand, that +Henrietta Hen met with snubs. Now and then her question--"Have you heard +the news?"--brought some such sallies as these: "Polly Plymouth Rock has +just laid an _enormous_ egg! Have you seen it?" Or maybe, "Don't be +disappointed, Henrietta! Somebody has to lay the littlest ones!" + +Such jibes were certain to make Henrietta Hen lose her temper. And she +would talk very fast (and, alas! very loud, too) about jealous neighbors +and how unpleasant it was to live among folk that were so stingy of their +praise that they couldn't say a good word for the finest eggs that ever +were seen! On such occasions Henrietta Hen generally talked in a lofty +way about moving to the village to live. + +"They think enough of my eggs down there," she would boast. "Boiled, +fried, poached, scrambled, or for an omelette--my eggs can't be beaten." + +"If the villagers can't beat your eggs they certainly can't use them for +omelettes," Polly Plymouth Rock told Henrietta one day. "Everybody knows +you have to beat eggs to make an omelette." + +Henrietta Hen didn't know what to say to that. It was almost the only +time she was ever known to be silent. + + + + +II + +A FINE FAMILY + + +Henrietta Hen's neighbors paid little attention to her boasting, because +they had to listen to it so often. At last, however, there came a day +when she set up such a cackling as they had never heard from her before. +She kept calling out at the top of her lungs, "Come-come-come! +See-what-I've-got! Come-come-come! See-what-I've-got!" And she acted even +more important than ever, until her friends began to say to one another, +"What _can_ Henrietta be so proud about? If it's only another egg, she's +making a terrible fuss about it." + +They decided at last that if they were to have any peace they'd better go +and look at whatever it was that Henrietta Hen was squawking about. So +they went--in a body--to the place where she had her nest, in the haymow. + +When Henrietta caught sight of her visitors she set up a greater clamor +than ever. + +"Well, well!" cried the oldest of the party, a rather sharp-tongued dame +with white feathers. "What's all this hubbub about?" And then they +learned what it was that Henrietta wanted them to see. + +"Did you ever set eyes on such a fine family?" she demanded as she +stepped aside from her nest and let them peer into it. + +"A brood of chicks--eh?" said the lady in white. "Well, what's all the +noise about?" + +Henrietta Hen turned her back on her questioner. + +"I knew you'd all want to have a look at these prize youngsters," she +said to the rest of the company. "You'll agree with me, of course, that +there were never any other chicks as handsome as these." + +Henrietta's neighbors all crowded up to gaze upon the soft balls of down. + +"This is the first family you've hatched, isn't it?" Polly Plymouth Rock +inquired. + +Henrietta Hen said that it was her first brood. + +Her neighbors wanted to be pleasant. So they told her that her children +were as fine youngsters as anybody could ask for. And the old white dame, +squinting at the nestlings, said to Henrietta: + +"They're the finest you've ever had.... But there's one of them that has +a queer look." + +All the other visitors tried to hush her up. They didn't want to hurt +Henrietta Hen's feelings. It was her first brood of chicks; and they +could forgive her for thinking them the best in the whole world. So when +they saw that old Whitey intended to be disagreeable they began to cluck +their approval of the youngsters, hoping that Henrietta wouldn't notice +what Whitey said. + +Nor did she. Henrietta Hen was altogether too pleased with herself and +her new family to pay much attention to anybody else's remarks. + +"I hope," said Henrietta, "that you'll all come to see my family often. +As the youngsters grow, I'm sure they'll get handsomer every day." + +The neighbors thanked her. And crowding about old Whitey they moved away. +Old Whitey just had to go too. She couldn't help spluttering a little. + +"What a vain, empty-headed creature Henrietta Hen is!" she exclaimed. +"She doesn't know that one of her brood is nothing but a duckling!" + + + + +III + +WET FEET + + +Somehow Henrietta Hen never noticed that one of her brood was different +from the rest. They were her first youngsters and they all looked +beautiful to her. + +Just as soon as Henrietta began to take her children for strolls about +the farmyard she taught them a number of things. She showed them how to +scratch in the dirt for food, how to drink by raising their heads and +letting the water trickle down their throats. She bade them beware of +hawks--and of Miss Kitty Cat, too. And she was always warning them to +keep their feet dry. + +"Water's good for nothing except to drink," Henrietta informed her +chicks. "Some strange people, like old dog Spot, jump right into it. And +how they manage to keep well is more than I can understand. Dust baths +are the only safe ones." + +So much did she fear water that Henrietta Hen wouldn't even let her +children walk in the grass until the sun had dried the morning's dew. And +the first sprinkle of rain was enough to send her scurrying for cover, +calling frantically for her chicks to hurry. + +Now, there was one of her family that always lagged behind when the +rain-drops began to fall. And often Henrietta had fairly to drive him +away from a puddle of water. She sometimes remarked with a sigh that he +gave her more trouble than all the rest of her children together. + +This was the youngster that Mrs. Hen's neighbors told one another was +different from his brothers and sisters. But poor Henrietta Hen only knew +that he was unusually hard to manage. + +As her family grew bigger, Henrietta Hen took them on longer strolls, +always casting a careful eye aloft now and then, lest some hawk should +swoop down upon her darlings. And though no hawk tried to surprise her, +something happened one day that gave Henrietta almost as great a fright +as any cruel hawk could have caused her. + +They had strayed down by the duck-pond--had Henrietta and her children, +stopping here and there to scratch for some tidbit, or to flutter in an +inviting dust-heap. Once they had reached the bank of the pond Henrietta +began to wish she hadn't brought her family in that direction. For one of +the youngsters--the one that never would hurry in out of the +rain--insisted on toddling down to the water's edge. + +"Come away this instant!" Henrietta shrieked, as soon as she noticed +where he was. "You'll get your feet wet the first thing you know." + +She never said anything truer than that. The words were scarcely out of +her bill when the odd member of her family flung himself into the water. +Or to be more exact, he flung himself _upon_ it; for he floated on the +surface as easily as a chip and began to paddle about as if he had swum +all his life. + +"Come back! Come back!" Henrietta Hen shrieked. "You'll be drowned--and +you'll get your feet wet!" + + + + +IV + +A SWIMMER + + +Henrietta Hen ran as fast as she could down the bank and stood as near +the water as she dared, cackling loudly and flapping her wings. + +Her child, who was swimming in the duck-pond, seemed to have no intention +of minding her. Nor did he seem to have any intention of drowning; and as +for getting his feet wet, he acted as if he liked _that_. + +"What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?" Henrietta Hen squawked. She made +so much noise that some of her neighbors came a-running, to see what was +the matter. And as soon as they discovered what had happened they began +to laugh. + +"We may as well tell you," they said to Henrietta Hen, "that that chap +out there is a duckling. The water won't hurt him." + +Henrietta Hen gasped and gaped. She was astonished. But she soon pulled +herself together. And it was just like her to begin to boast. + +"See!" she cried to her friends, and waved a wing toward the water with +an air of pride. "There isn't one of you that has a child that can beat +him swimming." + +"I should hope not!" said Polly Plymouth Rock with a shrug of her fine +shoulders. And all the others agreed that they wanted no swimmers in +their families. + +Henrietta Hen announced that she was sorry for them. "Every brood," she +declared, "should have at least one swimmer in it." She began to strut up +and down the edge of the duck-pond, clucking in a most overbearing +fashion. Really, she had never felt quite so important before--not even +when her first brood pecked their way out of their shells. + +"There's nothing quite like swimming," Henrietta Hen remarked with a +silly smirk. "If it weren't for getting my feet wet I'd be tempted to +learn myself. No doubt my son could teach me." + +"Your son!" the old white hen sniffed. "He's not your son, Henrietta Hen. +Somebody played a joke on you. Somebody put a duck's egg under you while +you were hatching your eggs. And I think I can guess who it was that did +it." + +For just a moment Henrietta Hen stood still. The news almost took her +breath away. Her comb trembled on the top of her head. She even stopped +clucking. And she looked from one to another of her companions as if in +hopes of finding one face, at least, that looked doubtful.... Alas! +Everybody appeared to agree with old Whitey. + +"If this is so," Henrietta muttered at last, "it's strange nobody ever +noticed before that there was a duckling in my brood." + +"We knew from the very first!" Polly Plymouth Rock told her. "You were +the only one on the farm that didn't see that one of your family was +different from the rest." + +All this time the young duckling was swimming further and further away. +He seemed to have forgotten all about his foster mother. + +Henrietta Hen took one long last look at him. She guessed that she might +have stood there forever cackling for him to come back and he wouldn't +have paid the slightest heed to her. + +Then she gathered her children--her really own--about her. "Come!" she +said to them, "We'll go back home now." + +"What about him?" they demanded, pointing to the truant duckling who was +bobbing about on the rippling water. "Aren't you going to make him come, +too?" + +"No!" said their mother. "We're well rid of him. He has been more trouble +to me than all the rest of you.... To tell the truth, I never liked him +very well." + + + + +V + +CAUGHT BY MR. CROW + + +It wasn't far to the edge of the cornfield from the farmyard fence. And +Henrietta Hen was quick to discover that the freshly ploughed and +harrowed field offered a fine place to scratch for all kinds of worms and +bugs and grubs. + +Not being what you might call a wise bird--like old Mr. Crow--Henrietta +didn't know that Farmer Green had carefully planted corn in that field, +in long rows. She did exclaim, however, that she was in great luck when +now and then she unearthed a few kernels of corn. But she wasn't +_looking_ for corn. She merely ate it when she happened to find any. + +It is no wonder, then, that she was amazed when a hoarse voice suddenly +cried right in her ear, almost, "You're a thief and you can't deny it!" + +She jumped. How could she have helped it? And the voice exclaimed, +"There! You're guilty or you'd never have jumped like that." + +Turning, Henrietta saw that a black, beady-eyed gentleman was staring at +her sternly. + +"It takes Mr. Crow to catch 'em," he croaked. "He can tell a corn-thief +half a mile away." + +All this time Henrietta Hen hadn't said a word. At first she was too +surprised. And afterward she was too angry. + +"Why don't you speak?" he demanded. He dearly loved a quarrel. And +somehow it wasn't much fun quarrelling with anybody when the other party +wouldn't say a word. + +Still Henrietta Hen didn't open her mouth. She puzzled Mr. Crow. He even +forgot his rage (for it always made him angry if anybody but himself +scratched up any corn). + +"What's the matter with you?" he asked. "What's the reason you don't +speak?" + +"I'm too proud to talk with you," said Henrietta Hen. "I don't care to be +seen speaking to you, sir." + +"Ha!" Mr. Crow exploded. "Don't you think I'm as good as you are?" + +"No!" said Henrietta Hen. "No, I don't!" + +Mr. Crow was all for arguing with her. He began to tell Henrietta many +things about himself, how he had spent dozens of summers in Pleasant +Valley, what a great traveller he was, how far he could fly in a day. +There was no end to his boasting. + +Yet Henrietta Hen never looked the least bit interested. Indeed, she +began scratching for worms while he was talking. And that made the old +fellow angrier than ever. + +"Don't you dare eat another kernel of corn!" he thundered. "If you do, +I'll have to tell Farmer Green." + +"He feeds me corn every day--cracked corn!" said Henrietta. + +"Well, I never!" cried Mr. Crow. "What's he thinking of, wasting good +corn like that?" + +"Really, I mustn't be seen talking with you," Henrietta Hen told Mr. +Crow. "If you want to know the answer to your question, come over to the +barnyard and ask the Rooster. He'll give you an answer that you won't +like." + +And then she walked away with stately steps. + +Mr. Crow watched her with a baleful gleam in his eyes. He knew well +enough what Henrietta meant. The Rooster would rather fight him than not. +And though Mr. Crow loved a quarrel, he never cared to indulge in +anything more dangerous than harsh words. + +"I don't know what the farm's coming to," he croaked. "Here's Farmer +Green wasting corn on such as her--and cracking it for her, too!" + +So saying, the old gentleman turned his back on Henrietta Hen, who was +already fluttering through the farmyard fence. And thereupon he scratched +up enough corn for a hearty meal, grumbling meanwhile because it wasn't +cracked for him. + +"Somehow," he muttered, "I can't help wishing I was a speckled hen." + + + + +VI + +HENRIETTA COMPLAINS + + +There was another member of Farmer Green's flock, besides Henrietta Hen, +that was proud. Nobody needed to look twice at the Rooster to tell that +he had an excellent opinion of himself. He had a way of walking about the +farmyard that said quite plainly that he believed himself to be a person +of great importance. And it was true that things went according to his +ideas, among the flock. + +He was always spoken of as "the Rooster." For although there were other +roosters in the flock, they were both younger and smaller than he, and he +would never permit anybody to call them--in his hearing--anything but +cockerels. + +These cockerels usually took great pains to keep out of the Rooster's +way. If they were careless, and he caught them napping, he was more than +likely to make matters unpleasant for them. He knew how to make their +feathers fly. + +Now, Henrietta Hen thought that the Rooster behaved in a most silly +fashion. She said it pained her to see him prancing about, with his two +long, arched tail-feathers nodding as he walked. The truth was, Henrietta +could not endure it to have any one more elegantly dressed than she. And +there was no denying that the Rooster's finery outshone everybody else's. +Why, he wore a comb on his head that was even bigger than Henrietta's! +And he had spurs, too, for his legs. + +But what Henrietta Hen disliked most about the Rooster was the way he +crowed each morning. It wasn't so much the _kind_ of crowing that he +indulged in; it was rather the early hour he chose for it that annoyed +Henrietta. He always began his _Cockle-doodle-doo_ while it was yet dark. +Then everybody in the henhouse had to wake up, whether he wanted to or +not. And Henrietta Hen did wish the Rooster would keep still at least +till daylight came. She often remarked that it was perfectly ridiculous +for any one from a fine family--as she was--to get up at such an +unearthly hour. She said it was a wonder she kept her good looks, just on +account of the Rooster's crowing. + +"Why don't you ask him to wait until it's light, before he begins to +crow?" Polly Plymouth Rock asked Henrietta one day. + +"I'll do it!" cried Henrietta. Right then she called to one of the +cockerels, who was near-by. "Just skip across the yard and ask the +Rooster--" she began. + +The cockerel broke right in upon her message. + +"Oh! I can't do that!" he exclaimed. "I've never gone up to the Rooster +and spoken to him. If I did, he'd be sure to fight me." + +"Just tell him that I sent you," said Henrietta. And she made the +cockerel listen to her message. But he wouldn't be persuaded. He told +Henrietta that the Rooster would be sure to jump at him the moment he +opened his mouth. "Besides," he added, "it wouldn't do any good, anyhow. +The Rooster can't wait until after daylight, before he begins to crow." + +"He can't, eh?" Henrietta Hen spoke up somewhat sharply. "I'd like to +know the reason why!" And fixing her gaze sternly upon the Rooster, she +marched straight across the farmyard towards him, to find out. + + + + +VII + +WARNING THE ROOSTER + + +"Good Afternoon!" Henrietta Hen greeted the Rooster. He had not seen her +as she walked towards him. And when she spoke he hastily arranged his two +long tail-feathers in what he considered a more becoming droop. + +"Good afternoon, madam!" he answered--for the Rooster prided himself that +he was always polite to the ladies. "Er--there's nothing wrong, I hope," +he added quickly as he noticed an odd gleam in Henrietta Hen's eye. + +"Yes--there is," she said. The cockerels might fear the Rooster, but +Henrietta certainly didn't. She considered him a good deal of a braggart. +Indeed, she even had an idea that she could have whipped him herself, had +she cared to be so unladylike as to fight. "I've been bothered for a long +time because you crow so early in the morning. You make such a racket +that you wake me up every day." + +The Booster hemmed and hawed. Somehow he felt uncomfortable. + +"That's unfortunate," he stammered. And then he had a happy thought. +"Anyhow," he continued, with a smile at Henrietta, "you don't look as if +you lacked for sleep, madam. You grow more beautiful every day." + +Henrietta Hen admitted that it was so. "But," she said, "I believe I'd be +even handsomer if I weren't disturbed so early. I don't like to get up +while it's dark. So I'm going to ask you to delay your crowing, from now +on, until after sunrise." + +"Impossible!" cried the Rooster. "I'm sorry to disoblige you, madam. But +what you ask can't be done." + +"That's just what the cockerel said!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed. + +"The cockerel!" the Rooster echoed angrily. "Which one? Has one of those +upstarts been talking about me? Point him out to me and I'll soon teach +him a lesson." + +Henrietta Hen said that she hadn't noticed which cockerel it was. Somehow +they all looked alike to her. + +"Good!" the Rooster cried. "Then I'll have to whip them all, to make sure +of punishing the guilty one." He looked very fierce. + +"Don't be absurd!" Henrietta told him. "I asked one of the cockerels to +give you a message about not crowing so early. And he declined. He said +it wouldn't do any good." + +"It wouldn't have done _him_ any good," the Rooster declared, stamping a +foot and thrusting his bill far forward, to show Henrietta Hen how brave +he was. + +"What's the matter?" she inquired. "Have you eaten something that +disagrees with you?" + +The Rooster couldn't help looking foolish. Henrietta Hen believed in +letting him know that she stood in no awe of him. And while he was +feeling ill at ease she hastened to tell him that hereafter he must _hold +onto_ his first crow until after sunrise. + +"I can't do that," he told her again, unhappily. + +"Don't you dare let go of it!" she warned him. "If that first crow gets +away from you while it's dark, there'll be so many others to follow it +that I shan't be able to close an eye for even a cat-nap." + + + + +VIII + +WHY THE ROOSTER CROWED + + +Henrietta Hen had commanded the Rooster to wait until daylight before he +began to crow. + +He saw that she had made up her mind that he must obey her. But he knew +he couldn't. And he always took great pains to be polite to the ladies. + +It was a wonder the Rooster didn't turn red in the face. He had never +found himself in such a corner before. + +"You don't understand," he blurted. "I'd be delighted to oblige you, but +if I didn't crow until after the sun rose I'd never crow again." + +"We could stand that," was Henrietta Hen's grim reply. + +"Perhaps!" he admitted--for she made him feel strangely humble. "But +could you stand it if the night lasted forever?" + +"You're talking nonsense now," she declared. + +"You don't understand," he told her again. "And I must say I'm surprised, +madam, that you didn't know it was I that waked the sun up every morning. +_That's_ why I crow so early." + +Henrietta Hen was so astonished that she didn't know what to say. She +thought deeply for a time--or as deeply as she could. + +"Have you not noticed," the Rooster inquired, "that the sun never rises +until I've crowed loudly a good many times?" + +"No! No--I haven't," Henrietta murmured. "But now that you speak of it, I +see that it's so." + +"Exactly!" he said. "And often, madam, I have to crow a long time before +he peeps over Blue Mountain. It's lucky I have a good, strong voice," the +Rooster, added with a smirk, for he was feeling more at his ease. "If I +had a thin, squeaky crow such as those worthless cockerels have, Farmer +Green would have had to do many a day's work in the dark." + +"Goodness!" Henrietta Hen gasped. "Do crow your loudest the moment you +wake up, Mr. Rooster! Do make all the noise you can!" And he promised +faithfully that he would. + +Henrietta left him then. Somehow she couldn't get their talk out of her +mind. And soon she had an unhappy thought. What if anything should happen +to the Rooster's voice? + +The moment that question popped into her head, Henrietta Hen hurried back +to the Rooster. + +"Do be careful!" she besought him. "Don't get your feet wet! For if you +caught cold you might be so hoarse that you couldn't speak above a +whisper." + +The Rooster thanked her politely for thinking of his health. + +"I always take good care of myself," he assured her. + +"It looks like rain this minute," she said as she cast an anxious glance +at the sky. "Hadn't you better run into the barn?" + +He thought otherwise--and said as much. + +"You ought to wear rubbers every day," she chided him, as she went away +again. + +Soon Henrietta returned once more to urge the Rooster to carry an +umbrella. And it wasn't long after that when she came bustling up to him +and informed him that a warm muffler about his throat wouldn't be amiss. + +There seemed to be no end to her suggestions. And though at first the +Rooster had liked to hear them (without having any idea of following +them) after a time Henrietta's attentions began to annoy him. + +"Great cracked corn!" he exclaimed. "This Henrietta Hen is getting to be +a pest." + + + + +IX + +HAUGHTY HENRIETTA + + +Feeling as important as she did, Henrietta Hen liked to have her own way. +She said that she couldn't be expected to do just as others wished. + +"I'll take orders from nobody," she often declared. "And if I lay eggs +for Farmer Green I shall lay them when and where I please." + +Henrietta took special delight in laying her eggs in out-of-the-way +places. She was never content to lay two in the same nest. + +"If they left them for me perhaps I'd feel differently," she explained to +her neighbors. "But Johnnie Green gathers every egg that he can find. And +if he takes my eggs I'll make him hunt for them, anyhow." + +The older, more staid hens shook their heads when Henrietta talked like +that. They told her she was ungrateful. + +"Farmer Green gives you a snug home and plenty of food," they reminded +her. "And the least you can do is to repay him. You ought not to make +trouble by hiding your eggs." + +But Henrietta Hen couldn't--or wouldn't--agree with them. + +"It's all very well for you to talk," she retorted. "If my eggs were +undersized I shouldn't mind losing them as fast as I laid them. But I lay +the biggest and finest eggs to be had. So it's only natural that I should +like to have at least _one_ around to look at--and to show to callers." + +Now, there were plenty of other hens in the flock that laid eggs exactly +as big--or even bigger--than Henrietta Hen's. Some of them told her as +much. Yet it did them no good to talk to her. She wouldn't believe that +there were any eggs in the world to compare with hers. So her neighbors +learned after a while that they might as well let Henrietta Hen manage +her affairs as she pleased. They couldn't help hoping, however, that +somehow Farmer Green would find a way to outwit her. + +"What can Henrietta Hen be so boastful about now?" the hens asked one +another one day. "She acts as if she thought more highly of herself than +ever." + +They soon discovered the reason for Henrietta's unusually pompous manner. +For she began to make calls on all her friends. And she invited everybody +to come to her latest nest high up in the haymow. + +"I've something there to show you," she said with an air of mystery. +"You'll be surprised to see it." + +Most of Henrietta's neighbors did not show any great curiosity to see the +surprise. They smiled at one another. "She's laid another egg--that's +all!" they whispered. + +But there are always some that can't rest until they know everybody +else's business. And it was lucky that Henrietta Hen hurried home to +receive her callers, because she had a good many. They came even earlier +in the afternoon than was strictly fashionable. And they came in a crowd, +too. That, however, didn't bother Henrietta Hen. Nor could they have +arrived too soon to suit her. + +"Look!" she cried, when they reached her nest high up in the haymow. "Did +you ever see anything to beat that?" + + + + +X + +THE BIG, WHITE EGG + + +When Henrietta Hen's callers crowded about her nest in the haymow they +expected to see something wonderful. But when they craned their necks and +peered into the little hollowed-out snuggery in the hay they couldn't +help being disappointed. And when they didn't burst forth with cries of +surprise and praise Henrietta Hen looked quite unhappy. + +"I thought," she said, "you'd want to see this egg. I'm sure you never +beheld a bigger nor a whiter one than this." + +They admitted that the egg was big and that it was very, very white. And +if their praise was faint, Henrietta never noticed it. + +"Are you going to let Farmer Green have that egg?" one of the company +inquired. + +"No doubt Johnnie Green will grab it as soon as he finds my nest," said +Henrietta with something like a sigh. "If I could only keep this one I +wouldn't care how many others he took." + +Polly Plymouth Rock turned to old Whitey, a hen who had come with her to +the haymow. + +"What do you think?" Polly asked. "Is Henrietta in danger of losing this +egg that she thinks so much of?" + +"She needn't be alarmed," old Whitey answered. "If Johnnie Green robs her +of this one, I'll miss my guess." + +"Oh! I'm glad to hear you say that!" Henrietta Hen cried. "Now I won't +need to worry--that is, if you know what you're talking about." + +That, of course, was a most impolite way for Henrietta Hen to speak to +anybody of old Whitey's age. Whitey was the oldest hen in the flock. And +what she didn't know about such things as nests and eggs and roosts +wasn't worth knowing. + +Polly Plymouth Rock didn't like Henrietta Hen's remark. She opened her +mouth. + +And no doubt she would have said something quite sharp in reply. But old +Whitey stopped her. + +"Never mind!" said Whitey. "The day will come when Henrietta Hen will +agree that my guess is a good one." + +Still Henrietta Hen felt uneasy about that big, white egg. + +"I do hope Johnnie Green won't find this new nest of mine," she remarked. + +"If he does, I fear he'll take my beautiful egg away from me." + +"Lay another!" said old Whitey. "Lay another and he'll take that and +leave this one." + +"I suppose I may as well try your scheme," Henrietta replied, "since +nobody suggests anything better." + +"My idea's a good one, or I'll miss my guess," said old Whitey. + +There was some snickering among Henrietta Hen's callers as they bade her +good afternoon and left her. + +"They're laughing at old Whitey," she said to herself. She hadn't the +slightest notion that they could be giggling at _her_. "Old Whitey must +be wrong," she thought. "But I may as well take her advice, for I don't +know what else to do." + +Not long afterward Henrietta Hen came fluttering down from the haymow, +squawking at the top of her lungs for old Whitey. And as soon as she +found her, Henrietta cried, "Come up to my nest right away! I want to ask +your advice." + +Although she didn't say "Please!" old Whitey went with her. + +[Illustration: "Come Up to My Nest!" Cried Henrietta Hen. (_Page 50_)] + + + + +XI + +OLD WHITEY'S ADVICE + + +Old Whitey--the most ancient hen in the flock--scrambled with some +difficulty up to the top of the haymow in Farmer Green's barn. She could +scarcely keep up with Henrietta Hen, whom she was following--by request. +And when she arrived, breathless, at Henrietta's nest that proud and +elegant creature turned a troubled face toward her. + +"See!" said Henrietta. "I've taken your advice and laid another egg. But +it's nothing like the beautiful, big, white one. This last egg is much +smaller; and it's brown." + +Old Whitey nodded her head. "Well!" she said. "What's your difficulty?" + +"Don't you think," said Henrietta, "that if Johnnie Green finds my nest +he'll be sure to take both eggs?" + +"No, I don't," was old Whitey's blunt answer. + +"Then he'll be sure to take the big, white one," Henrietta Hen wailed. + +"No, he won't," old Whitey told her. "If he does, I'll miss my guess." + +Well, that was really too much for Henrietta Hen to believe. + +"That boy will never take a little egg and leave a big one," she +declared. + +"You wait and see if he doesn't," old Whitey advised her. + +So Henrietta waited. Though she had little faith in old Whitey's advice, +Henrietta could think of nothing else to do. And the next morning, to her +great surprise, when Johnnie Green climbed into the haymow and found her +nest he took the small brown egg and put it in his hat. And he never +touched the big, white egg at all. He didn't even pick it up and look at +it! + +Perched on a beam overhead Henrietta Hen watched him breathlessly. And as +soon as he had gone she went flopping down to the barn floor and set up a +great clamor for old Whitey. + +"What is it now?" old Whitey asked, sticking her head inside the doorway. + +"Your guess was a good one!" cried Henrietta Hen. "He came; and he took +the small one." + +"There!" said old Whitey. "I told you so! I knew Johnnie Green wouldn't +rob you of that big egg. And if you keep laying small eggs in that same +nest you'll find he'll let you keep the big one." + +Henrietta Hen fairly beamed at her companion. + +"How delightful!" she exclaimed. "I've become very, very fond of that big +egg. I love to look at it. But there's another thing that worries me now. +If that big egg should get broken--" + +"Don't let that trouble you!" said old Whitey. + +"I'm almost afraid to sit on my nest," Henrietta Hen confessed. "If the +shell of that egg should happen to be thin--" + +Old Whitey seemed much amused by Henrietta's fears. + +"Let me know if you break it," she said. And then she left Henrietta with +her treasure. + +"I'll be very careful," Henrietta called after the old dame. + + + + +XII + +PLAYING TRICKS + + +Now, the hen known as old Whitey was something of a gossip. She went +straight to the farmyard and told everybody what had happened--what +Henrietta Hen had said to her and what she had said to Henrietta Hen. The +whole flock had a great laugh over the affair. + +To Henrietta Hen's delight, all her neighbors took a keen interest in the +wonderful white egg. They asked her countless questions about it. Above +all, they always took pains to inquire whether she had been so unlucky as +to crack the shell. And if Henrietta hadn't displeased Polly Plymouth +Rock one day, the truth might never have come out. + +Anyhow, Polly Plymouth Rock told Henrietta Hen that if she had any sense +she would stop making such a fuss over a china egg. + +"China egg!" cried Henrietta. "I don't know what you mean." + +"That's not a real egg that you're so proud of," Polly Plymouth Rock +declared. "It's nothing but a make-believe one. Johnnie Green left it in +your nest to fool you, so you'd keep that nest and lay eggs in it, right +along.... You're so careful not to break that china egg! Why, if you +_tried_ to break it you'd find that it's solid as a rock." + +Henrietta Hen couldn't believe the terrible news. + +"I laid that egg myself!" she shrieked. + +"You think you did; but you didn't," Polly Plymouth Rock snapped. +"Johnnie Green took an egg of yours one day and left that other one in +its place, to deceive you. And everybody on the farm--except you--knows +that he succeeded." + +Henrietta Hen didn't wait to hear anything more. She rushed squalling +into the barn and went straight to her nest. One good, hard peck at the +big white egg told her beyond all doubt that she had been betrayed. The +beautiful, big, white egg wasn't an egg after all! + +Now that Henrietta Hen knew it she wondered how it could ever have +deceived her. She saw that it was shiny and altogether unlike any egg she +had ever seen anywhere. + +"Johnnie Green has played a mean trick on me," Henrietta Hen cackled. +"And now I'll play one on him! He can have his old china egg. I'll leave +it here for him. But he'll find none of _my_ beautiful little brown eggs +beside it. I'll have my nest where he'll never discover it--not if he +hunts for it all summer long!" + +So saying, she left the haymow. And going into the carriage shed, her +roving eyes chanced to light on an old straw hat of Johnnie Green's that +lay upside down upon a high shelf. + +Henrietta Hen managed to flutter up beside it. And then with many a +chuckle she laid a brown egg in the hat. + +"There!" she cackled. "This is the safest place on the farm. Johnnie +Green hasn't had this hat on his head since last summer." + + + + +XIII + +TWO IN A GARDEN + + +Jimmy Rabbit was enjoying a few nibbles at one of Farmer Green's +cabbages. He hadn't noticed that there was anybody but himself in the +garden. So it startled him to hear a shrill voice cry, "Get out of our +garden!" + +Jimmy Rabbit jumped. But he didn't jump far, for he soon saw that it was +only Henrietta Hen speaking to him. + +"Why should I get out of _our_ garden?" Jimmy Rabbit inquired mildly. + +"I should have said, 'Farmer Green's garden,'" said Henrietta Hen. + +"Thank you very much for the warning; but I don't think we need go away +just yet--if old dog Spot isn't sniffing around," said Jimmy Rabbit. "I +don't believe there's any danger." + +"You don't understand," Henrietta Hen cried. "I _ordered_ you out of the +garden." + +"_You_ ordered me?" said Jimmy Rabbit, acting as if he were astonished. + +"Yes!" Henrietta declared. "And I'd like to know when you're going to +obey me." + +"It's easy to answer that," Jimmy Rabbit replied. "I'm going away as soon +as I've finished my luncheon." Nobody could have been pleasanter than he. +Yet Henrietta Hen seemed determined to be disagreeable. + +"I don't see your lunch basket," she remarked, looking all around. + +"No!" he replied. "I forgot it. I meant to bring one with me and carry a +cabbage-head home in it." + +Henrietta Hen spoke as if she were very peevish. + +"You've no right," she said, "to take one of the cabbages away with you." + +"I'm not going to," Jimmy Rabbit explained. + +"You were nibbling at one when I first noticed you," Henrietta Hen +insisted. + +"Was I?" he gasped. "Are you sure you're not mistaken? Are you sure you +weren't pecking at a cabbage-leaf yourself?" + +Now, the truth of the matter was that Henrietta had herself come to the +garden to eat cabbage. Really she was no better than he was. But somehow +Henrietta Hen never could believe that she was in the wrong. + +"You're impertinent," she told Jimmy + +[Illustration: Henrietta Hen Scolds Jimmy Rabbit. (_Page 62_)] + +Rabbit in her severest tone. "You know very well that Farmer Green raises +these cabbages for home use only." + +"Well," said Jimmy Rabbit, "I'll make myself at home here, then." And +turning a cold shoulder on Henrietta Hen he began nibbling at a +cabbage-leaf once more. + +Henrietta felt quite helpless. Somehow nothing she could say to the +intruder seemed to have the slightest effect on him. And he appeared to +be enjoying his luncheon so thoroughly that it made Henrietta Hen very +hungry just to see him eat. In spite of herself she couldn't resist +joining him at luncheon. + +"Ah!" he exclaimed between mouthfuls, "I see you're making yourself at +home, too." + +Henrietta Hen tried to look very dignified. She pecked at the cabbage in +an absent-minded fashion, pretending that it was no treat to her. As a +matter of fact, she had been trying to get a taste of cabbage for a long +while. And this was the first time she had managed to crawl through the +garden fence. "One has to eat something," she murmured. + +Jimmy Rabbit smiled slyly. Henrietta Hen couldn't deceive him. He knew +that she was as fond of cabbage as he was himself. + +"Did you ever hear it said," he asked her suddenly, "that eating too much +cabbage causes long ears?" + + + + +XIV + +EARS--SHORT OR LONG + + +Henrietta Hen's heart began to thump. She dropped a bit of cabbage out of +her bill, letting it fall as if it burned her. And usually she was very +careful as to her table-manners. "Goodness!" she said to Jimmy Rabbit, +who was busily munching cabbage in Farmer Green's garden. "You frighten +me!" + +He had just asked her this strange question: "Did you ever hear it said +that eating too much cabbage causes long ears?" And Henrietta Hen didn't +want long ears. She knew they would be sure to spoil her beauty. + +Jimmy Rabbit had no time to say anything more to Henrietta Hen. Although +he had not finished his luncheon he left the garden suddenly--and in +great haste. For old dog Spot began barking just beyond the fence; and +Jimmy Rabbit always wanted to get as far from that sound as he could. + +When Spot scurried into the cabbage-patch a little later Henrietta Hen +called to him. + +"What is it?" he asked her impatiently. "I'm in a great hurry. I don't +like to stop." + +"This is a very important matter," said Henrietta Hen. "Do you like +cabbage?" she demanded. + +"Cabbage?" he repeated after her as a puzzled look came over his face. + +"You needn't act so surprised," Henrietta told him coldly. "You didn't +come running into the garden for nothing. And I have reason to believe +that you intended to eat some of Farmer Green's cabbages." + +"What's your reason?" old Spot inquired. + +"You have long ears," said Henrietta. + +"Nonsense!" cried Spot. "What a person eats doesn't make his ears either +long or short." + +"Are you sure of that?" Henrietta Hen wanted to know. + +"I've never eaten cabbage in all my life," he declared. + +Still she couldn't rid herself of her fears. + +"Perhaps," she said, "if you had eaten it your ears would have grown +twice as long as they are now." + +He shook his head. "I don't think so," he muttered. + +"There's only one way to find out," Henrietta announced. "Eat a lot of +cabbage--all you can! And we'll soon see whether your ears are growing +longer." + +But old dog Spot refused flatly to do anything of the sort. He said that +his ears suited him quite well, just as they were. + +"What!" Henrietta cried. "Wouldn't you eat cabbage to oblige a lady?" + +Old Spot said he was sorry; but he had no liking for cabbage. + +"How can you tell if you've never tasted it?" she asked. + +He made no answer to that question. Instead, he asked her one of his own. + +"Would you like long ears?" he inquired. + +"Certainly not!" she cried. + +"How can you tell if you've never tried wearing any?" he demanded. + +"Don't be stupid!" she snapped. "None of my family wears ears that can be +seen. What a sight I'd be with long ears! Ears are very ugly things, and +I only hope that I haven't eaten so much cabbage that mine will begin to +grow.... Do you suppose they'd hang down like yours or stick up like +Jimmy Rabbit's? He didn't say anything about that." + +Old dog Spot let out a howl. + +"Jimmy Rabbit!" he growled. "Was he talking with you just before I +arrived?" + +"Yes!" said Henrietta. "It was he that asked me if I had ever heard that +eating cabbage made a person's ears grow." + +"I might have known that it was that young Rabbit who put such a silly +notion into your head," Spot grumbled. "If you hadn't stopped me I'd have +stopped _him_ by this time.... But it's too late now." + +"You don't suppose he was joking, do you?" Henrietta inquired. + +"Of course he was," said Spot--and none too pleasantly. + +"Well," Henrietta mused, as she pecked at a cabbage-leaf, "I must say +that I think the joke's on you." + + + + +XV + +HENRIETTA'S FRIGHT + + +When the old horse Ebenezer stood in his stall in the barn he was always +glad to talk with anybody that came along. + +Henrietta Hen sometimes strolled into the horse-barn to see if she could +find a little grain that had spilled on the floor. So it came about that +she and Ebenezer had many a chat together. Henrietta had no great opinion +of horses. She thought that they had altogether more than their share of +grain. + +But she was willing to pass the time of day with Ebenezer, because he let +her walk right into his stall and pick up tidbits that had dropped upon +the floor beneath his manger. + +It was on such an occasion, on a summer's day, that he said to her with a +sigh, "Haying's going to begin to-morrow." + +Henrietta Hen remarked that she wasn't at all interested in the news. +"And I don't see why you should sigh," she added. "Goodness knows you'll +eat your share of the hay--and probably more--before the winter's over." + +"It's the work that I'm thinking of," Ebenezer explained. "They'll hitch +me to the hayrake and Johnnie Green will drive me all day long in the hot +hayfields. I always hate to hear the clatter of the mowing machine," he +groaned. "It means that the hayrake will come out of the shed next." + +Henrietta Hen caught her breath. + +"The mowing machine!" she gasped. "Is Farmer Green going to use the +mowing machine now?" + +"Certainly!" said Ebenezer. "I hear he's going to harness the bays to it +to-morrow morning." + +"My! my!" Henrietta wailed. "Isn't there any way I can stop him from +doing that?" + +"I don't know of any," Ebenezer told her. "I've often felt just as you do +about it. There's nobody that dreads hearing the mowing machine more than +I do." + +"You can't feel the way I do," Henrietta declared. + +"On the contrary," the old horse insisted, "I don't see how it can matter +to you in the least. _You_ don't have to pull the mowing machine nor the +hayrake. Besides, didn't you just tell me that my news about haying +didn't interest you?" + +"But it does!" Henrietta cried. "I was mistaken. It means _everything_ to +me. It's the worst news I ever heard in all my life." + +Old Ebenezer looked down at her with mild astonishment on his long, +honest face. + +"Why is it bad news?" he inquired. "If you'll tell me, perhaps I can help +you." + +So Henrietta Hen explained her difficulty. Whatever it was, it amazed +Ebenezer. And he had to admit that he could think of no way out of the +trouble. + +"It was very, very careless of you," he told Henrietta. Then suddenly he +had a happy thought. "Cheer up!" he cried. "If Farmer Green sits on them, +maybe they'll hatch." + +"Hatch!" she groaned. "They'll _break_!" + +And she ran out of the stall and hurried into the yard. + +She was just in time to hear Farmer Green calling to his son Johnnie. + +"Look here!" said he. "I started to oil the mowing machine so I could use +it to-morrow; and just see what I found in the seat!" + +Johnnie Green came a-running. And there in the seat of the mowing +machine, nestling in the hay which had been put there for a cushion the +summer before, three eggs greeted Johnnie's eyes. + +"They must belong to the speckled hen," Johnnie decided. "I knew she'd +stolen her nest again. I couldn't find it anywhere." He picked up the +eggs and put them in his hat. "She's a sly one," he said. + +That remark made Henrietta Hen somewhat angry. At the same time she was +glad that Farmer Green had discovered the eggs before it was too late. +She wouldn't have liked him to sit on them. + +It always upset her to see her eggs broken. + + + + +XVI + +THE ROOSTER UPSET + + +During the summer Henrietta Hen roamed about the farmyard as she pleased. +To be sure, she always came a-running at feeding time. But except when +there was something there to eat, she didn't go near the henhouse. She +"stole her nest," to use Johnnie Green's words, now in one place and now +in another. And at night she roosted on any handy place in the barn or +the haymow, under the carriage-shed or even over the pigpens. + +However, when the nights began to grow chilly Henrietta was glad enough +to creep into the henhouse with her companions. She always retired early. +And being a good sleeper, she slept usually until the Rooster began to +crow towards dawn. Of course now and then some fidgetty hen fancied that +she heard a fox prowling about and waked everybody else with her squalls. + +Such interruptions upset Henrietta. After the flock had gone to sleep +again Henrietta Hen was more than likely to dream that Fatty Coon was in +the henhouse. And she would squawk right out and start another commotion. + +Luckily such disturbances didn't happen every night. Often nothing +occurred to break the silence of the henhouse. And Henrietta would dream +only of pleasant things, such as cracked corn, or crisp cabbage-leaves, +or bone meal. After dreams of that sort Henrietta couldn't always be +sure, when the Rooster waked her with his crowing, that she hadn't +already breakfasted. But she would peck at her breakfast, when feeding +time came, and if it tasted good she would know then that the other food +had been nothing but a dream. + +One night, soon after she had gone back to roost in the henhouse, it +seemed to Henrietta that she had scarcely fallen asleep when the Rooster +crowed. + +She awoke with a start. + +"Goodness!" she exclaimed under her breath. "I must have slept soundly, +for I haven't dreamed a single dream all night long." Then she noticed +that none of the other hens had stirred. "Lazy bones!" Henrietta remarked +to the Rooster. "You won't get 'em up in a hurry. They, don't hear you at +all." + +To her surprise she received no answer. + +"He couldn't have heard me," she said to herself. So she repeated her +speech in a louder tone. And still the Rooster made no reply. Henrietta +couldn't understand it, he was always so polite to the ladies. Could it +be that he was snubbing her? + +Henrietta grew a bit angry as that thought popped into her head. + +"What's the matter?" she snapped. "Have you lost your voice? It was loud +enough to wake me up a few moments ago." + +Receiving no response whatsoever, Henrietta completely lost her temper. +"I'll see what's wrong with you!" she cackled. And throwing herself off +her roost, though it was dark as a pocket in the henhouse, she flung +herself upon the perch just opposite, where she knew the Rooster had +slept. + +It was no wonder that Henrietta Hen blundered in the dark. It was no +wonder that she missed her way and stumbled squarely into the Rooster, +knocking him headlong on the floor. + +He set up a terrible clamor. And he made Henrietta Hen angrier than ever, +for he cried out in a loud voice something that would have displeased +anybody. "A skunk is after me!" he bawled. + + + + +XVII + +A SIGN OF RAIN + + +There was a terrible hubbub in the henhouse. The Rooster squalled so +loudly that he waked up every hen in the place. And when they heard him +crying that a skunk had knocked him off his roost they were as frightened +as he was, and set up a wild cackle. All but Henrietta Hen! She knew +there was no skunk there. + +"Don't be a goose--er--don't be a gander!" she hissed to the Rooster. +"I'm the one that bumped into you." + +The Rooster quickly came to his senses. + +"Don't be alarmed, ladies!" he called to the flock. "There's no danger. +There's been a slight mistake." He pretended that he hadn't been scared. +But he had been. And now he was somewhat uneasy about Henrietta Hen. He +feared he was in for a scolding from her. + +"If you had answered me when I spoke to you I wouldn't have left my perch +in the dark," she told the Rooster severely. "When I moved to your perch +to see what was the matter I blundered into you. And then you thought I +was a skunk! You owe me an apology, sir!" + +The Rooster was glad it was not lighter in the henhouse, for he felt +himself flushing hotly. + +"You must pardon me," he said. "I had no idea it was you, for you waked +me out of a sound sleep." + +"Sound sleep, indeed!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed with a sniff. "Why, you +had been crowing only a few moments before. In fact it was your crowing +that roused me." + +"No doubt!" said the Rooster. "But you see, I fell asleep again +immediately." + +"Then you must be ill," Henrietta retorted, "for I've never known you to +go to sleep again, once you've begun your morning's crowing." + +"But it's not morning now," the Rooster informed her. "It's not even late +at night--certainly not an hour since sunset." + +Henrietta Hen was astonished. + +"I noticed that the night seemed short," she muttered. + +The Rooster thought it a great joke. + +"Ha! ha!" he laughed. And he said to the rest of the flock, with a +chuckle, "Henrietta thought it was morning! No doubt she'd have gone out +into the yard if the door hadn't been shut." And the other hens all +tittered. They always did, if the rooster expected them to. + +Well, if there was one thing that Henrietta Hen couldn't endure, it was +to be laughed at. + +"Don't be silly!" she cried. "Why shouldn't I think it was morning, when +he crowed almost in my ear?" + +"Don't you know why I crowed?" the Rooster asked her. And without waiting +for any reply, he said, "I crowed to let Farmer Green know it was going +to rain to-morrow." + +Of course Henrietta Hen had to have the last word. The Rooster might have +known she would. + +"Then," she observed, "I suppose you squawked to let him know there was a +skunk in the henhouse." + + + + +XVIII + +IN NEED OF ADVICE + + +Something was troubling Henrietta Hen. She seemed to have some secret +sorrow. No longer did she move with her well-known queenly manner among +her neighbors in the farmyard. Instead, she spent a good deal of her time +moping. And no one could guess the reason. She didn't even care to talk +to anybody--not even to boast about her fine, speckled coat. And that +certainly was not in the least like Henrietta Hen. + +Always, before, Henrietta had seized every chance to parade before the +public. Now she seemed to crave privacy. + +What was the matter? To tell the truth, Henrietta Hen herself did not +know the answer to that question. That is to say, she did not know _why_ +a certain thing was so. She only knew that a great misfortune had +befallen her. And she dreaded to tell anybody about it. + +To be sure, there was old Whitey--a hen who had lived on the farm longer +than any other. Most members of the flock often asked her advice. Even +Henrietta herself had done that. But this difficulty was something she +didn't want to mention to a neighbor. If there were only somebody outside +the flock to whom she could go for help! But she knew of no one. + +Then Henrietta happened to hear of Aunt Polly Woodchuck. The Muley Cow, +who went to the pasture every day, mentioned Aunt Polly's name to +Henrietta. According to the Muley Cow, Aunt Polly Woodchuck was an herb +doctor--and a good one, too. No matter what might be troubling a person, +Aunt Polly was sure to have something right in her basket to cure it. + +"I'd like to see her," Henrietta Hen had said. "But I can't go way up in +the pasture, under the hill." + +"Could you go to the end of the lane?" the Muley Cow inquired. + +"Yes!" + +"Then I'll ask Aunt Polly Woodchuck to meet you by the bars to-morrow +morning," the Muley Cow promised. + +That suited Henrietta Hen. + +"I'll be there--if it doesn't rain," she agreed. + +Early the next day she followed the cows through the lane. And she hadn't +waited long at the bars when Aunt Polly Woodchuck came hobbling up to +her. Being a very old lady, Aunt Polly was somewhat lame. But she was +spry, for all that. And her eyes were as bright as buttons. + +Henrietta Hen saw at once that Aunt Polly was hopelessly old-fashioned. +She carried a basket on her arm, and a stick in her hand. + +"Well, well, dearie! Here you are!" cried Aunt Polly Woodchuck. "The +Muley Cow tells me you're feeling poorly. Do tell me all about yourself! +No doubt I've something in my basket that will do you a world of good." + +[Illustration: "Don't Worry!" Said Aunt Polly Woodchuck. (_Page 91_)] + + + + +XIX + +AUNT POLLY HELPS + + +Somehow Henrietta Hen couldn't help liking Aunt Polly Woodchuck, in spite +of her old-fashioned appearance. She certainly had a way with her--a way +that made a person _want_ to tell her his troubles. + +"I don't know whether you can help me or not," said Henrietta Hen. "Have +you any feathers in your basket?" + +"No--no! No feathers!" Aunt Polly replied. "I use herbs in my business of +doctoring. But I've heard that a burnt feather held under a body's nose +will do wonders sometimes.... I must always carry a feather in my basket, +hereafter." + +"_One_ feather wouldn't do me any good," said Henrietta Hen with a +doleful sigh. "I need a great many more than one." + +"You do?" Aunt Polly cried. + +"Yes!" Henrietta answered. "Half my feathers have dropped off me. And +that's why I've come to ask your advice. I'm fast losing my fatal +beauty." + +Henrietta Hen's voice trembled as she told Aunt Polly Woodchuck the +dreadful news. "I don't believe you'll be able to help me," she quavered. +"I'll soon look like a perfect fright. Besides, winter's coming; and how +I'll ever keep warm with no feathers is more than I know." + +Henrietta Hen couldn't understand how Aunt Polly managed to stay so calm. +Henrietta had expected her to throw up her hands and say something like +"Sakes alive!" or "Mercy on us!" But the old lady did nothing of the +sort. + +She set her basket down on the ground; and pushing her spectacles forward +to the end of her nose, she leaned over and looked closely at Henrietta +Hen. Aunt Polly's gaze travelled over Henrietta from head to foot and +then back again. And she took hold of one of Henrietta's feathers and +gave it a gentle twitch. + +"Look out!" Henrietta cried. "You'll pull it out if you're not careful. +And I can't afford to lose any more feathers than I have to." + +"Don't worry!" Aunt Polly Woodchuck advised her. "Cheer up! There's +nothing the matter with you. You are molting. You are going to get a new +outfit of feathers for winter. Your old ones have to fall out in order to +make room for the new. And no doubt the fresh ones will be much handsomer +than the old." + +Henrietta couldn't believe that Aunt Polly knew what she was talking +about. + +"I can't be molting as early in the fall as this," she protested. "I've +never got my winter feathers so soon.... I fear you're mistaken," she +told Aunt Polly. + +"Oh, no! I'm not mistaken," Aunt Polly Woodchuck insisted. "I know it's +early for molting--but haven't you noticed that the wheat grew big this +year, and that the bark on young trees is thick? And haven't you observed +that Frisky Squirrel is laying up a great store of nuts in his hollow +tree, and that the hornets built their paper houses far from the ground +this summer?" + +Henrietta Hen's mouth fell open as she stared at Aunt Polly Woodchuck. +And when the old lady paused, Henrietta looked quite bewildered. + +"I don't know what you're talking about," she murmured. "I don't see what +all this has to do with molting." + +"Some of those signs," Aunt Polly explained, "mean an early winter; and +some of 'em mean a cold one. I've never known 'em to fail. And you're +molting early so you'll have a good warm coat of feathers by the time +winter comes." + +Well, Henrietta Hen began to feel better at once. She actually +smiled--something she had not done for days. + +"Thank you! Thank you!" she said. "You're a fine doctor, Aunt Polly. I +don't wonder that folks ask your advice--especially when there's nothing +the matter with them!" + +And then Henrietta Hen hurried off down the lane. Being timid about +hawks, she never felt quite comfortable far from the farmyard. + + + + +XX + +A GREAT FLURRY + + +There was a great flurry among Farmer Green's hens. They all insisted on +talking at the same time, because they had heard an astonishing bit of +news. It was about Henrietta Hen. Wherever she went her neighbors craned +their necks at her, just as if they hadn't seen her every day for as long +as they could remember. + +Henrietta Hen enjoyed the notice that everybody took of her. She went to +some trouble to move about a good deal, so that all might have a chance +to stare at her. For if there was one thing she liked, it was attention. + +There was a reason why Henrietta had suddenly become the most talked-of +member of the flock. She was going to the county fair! Furthermore, she +expected to take all her children with her. There wasn't the least doubt +that it was all true. The whole flock had heard Johnnie Green and his +father talking about it. + +Of course everybody asked Henrietta Hen a great number of questions. When +was she going to leave? How long did she expect to stay at the fair? What +did she intend to do there? Would she wear her best clothes if it rained? +There was no end to such inquiries. + +Unfortunately, Henrietta Hen could answer very few of them. Never having +visited a fair, she had no idea what a fair was like. She only guessed +that when the time came, she and her family would be put into a pen, +loaded upon a wagon, and jolted over the road that led to the fair, +wherever it might be. + +But Henrietta didn't intend to let her neighbors find out how little she +knew about fairs. She said that before starting she expected to wait for +the wagon, that she hoped to stay at the fair as long as it lasted +(because she didn't want to miss anything!) and that she intended to come +home when the wagon brought her. Furthermore, she planned to wear her +best apron, anyhow, because there was sure to be fair weather at a fair! +How could it be otherwise? + +Old Ebenezer, the horse, told her to be sure to see the races. + +"They're the best part of a fair," he said. "In my younger days I used to +take part in them." And then he added, "There's nothing else at a fair +that's worth looking at." + +"What about the poultry show?" Henrietta Hen asked him. She didn't know +what poultry shows were; but she had heard Farmer Green mention them. + +"I never paid any attention to the poultry exhibit," the horse Ebenezer +replied. "I never took part in that. I suppose it might interest you, +however." + +Henrietta Hen smiled a knowing sort of smile. And she remarked to Polly +Plymouth Rock, who stood near her, that she didn't believe the old horse +knew a race from a poultry show. "If he ever went to a fair, I dare say +he was hitched outside the fence," she sniffed. + +Polly Plymouth Rock cackled with amusement. And she said something that +displeased Henrietta Hen exceedingly. + +"Are you going to take that duckling that you hatched out?" she asked. + +"Certainly not!" Henrietta snapped. "Please--Miss Plymouth Rock--never +mention him again! I'm going to the fair, among strangers. And I +shouldn't care to have them know about that accident that happened to +me--not for anything!" + + + + +XXI + +OFF FOR THE FAIR + + +It seemed to Henrietta Hen that the time for the fair would never come. +She had begun to feel somewhat uneasy, because she had talked so much +about visiting the fair with her children that it would be very awkward +if she didn't go. So she was delighted one day by the noise of hammering +and sawing that came from the workbench at the end of the wagon-shed. A +merry noise it was, to Henrietta's ears; for she guessed at once what was +happening. Farmer Green and his son were building a pen in which she and +her family were to ride to the fair! + +The news spread like fire in sun-dried grass. Henrietta Hen took pains +that it should. She told everybody she saw that she expected to leave at +any moment. And she began to say good-by to all her friends. + +Since Henrietta didn't start for the fair that day, before nightfall she +had bade every one farewell at least a dozen times. And when, the +following dawn, Henrietta started the day not by saying "Good morning!" +but by bidding her neighbors "Good-by!" once more, they began to think +her a bit tiresome. + +"What! Haven't you gone yet?" they asked her. + +"No! But I expect to leave at any moment," Henrietta told them. She was +so excited that she couldn't eat her breakfast. But her chicks had no +such trouble. And perhaps it was just as well that Henrietta Hen had her +hands full looking after them and trying to keep them all under her eye, +and spick-and-span for the journey. Otherwise she would have been in more +of a flutter than she was. + +While Henrietta had an eye on her children, she tried to keep the other +on the barn. And after what seemed to her hours of watching and waiting, +she saw Johnnie Green lead the old horse Ebenezer out of the door, with +his harness on. Henrietta promptly forgot her stately manners. She ran +squalling across the farmyard and called to Ebenezer, "Where are you +going?" + +"I understand that I'm going to the fair," he told her, as Johnnie Green +backed him between the thills of a wagon. "Once I would have been hitched +to a light buggy, with a sulky tied behind it. But now I've got to take +you and your family in this rattlety old contraption." + +Henrietta Hen didn't wait to hear any more. She turned and hurried back, +to gather her youngsters and bid everybody another farewell. + +Amid a great clucking and squawking, Johnnie Green and his father put +Henrietta and her chicks into the pen and placed it in the back of the +wagon. + +"We're all ready!" Henrietta cried to Ebenezer. The old horse didn't even +turn his head, for he could see backwards as well as forwards, because he +wore no blinders. He made no direct reply to Henrietta, though he gave a +sort of grunt, as if the whole affair did not please him. He knew that it +was a long distance to the fairgrounds and the road was hilly. + +"_She_ thinks it a lark," he said to the dog Spot, who hung about as if +he were waiting for something. "She's lucky, for she won't have to go on +her own legs, for miles and miles." + +"That's just what I intend to do," Spot informed him. "They don't mean to +take me. But I'm going to follow you, right under the wagon, where +Johnnie Green and his father can't see me." + +So they started off. And they had scarcely passed through the gate when +Henrietta began to clamor in her shrillest tones. But nobody paid any +heed to her. The wagon clattered off down the road. And old dog Spot +smiled to himself as he trotted along beneath it. + +"Henrietta just remembered that she forgot to put on her best apron," he +chuckled. + + + + +XXII + +ALMOST HOMESICK + + +Never in all her life had Henrietta Hen seen so many hens and roosters +and chicks as she found on every side of her, at the fair. Farmer Green +and his son Johnnie had set her pen in the Poultry Hall. And to +Henrietta's surprise, none of her new neighbors paid much attention to +her and her chicks--at first. She soon decided that there was a reason +for this neglect. She made up her mind that she would have to make +herself heard amid all that uproar or the others would never know she had +arrived. + +Luckily Henrietta had a strong voice. She used it to the utmost. And it +wasn't long before a huge hen in a pen next hers gave her a bold look and +asked, "What are you here for?" + +"I've come to get the first prize," Henrietta answered calmly. She had +listened carefully to what Farmer Green and Johnnie had said to each +other during the journey from the farm. And already she knew something +about fairs. + +Her new neighbor laughed right in Henrietta's face. + +"I don't see how you can win the first prize," she said with a sniff. +"I'm going to get the first prize myself. There never was another such +fine family as mine." She glanced proudly at her chicks as she spoke. +"The best you can hope for," she told Henrietta, "is the second prize. +And you'll be lucky if you get the third." + +For once Henrietta Hen was at a loss for a retort. + +"I don't believe you've ever been at a fair before," her new neighbor +observed. + +Henrietta admitted faintly that she hadn't. + +"Last year I won second prize," said the other. "I'd have had the first +if the judges had known their business." + +Henrietta Hen began to feel very shaky in her legs. She had expected a +different sort of greeting, when she should arrive at the fair. She had +thought everybody would exclaim, "Here comes Henrietta Hen! What a fine +family of chicks she has! And aren't Mrs. Hen's speckles beautiful?" + +And there she was, with nobody paying any heed to her, except the lofty +dame in the next pen, who had said nothing very agreeable. + +"Oh, dear!" Henrietta sighed. "I wish I'd never left home." + +"What's that?" her neighbor inquired in a sharp tone. "You aren't +homesick, are you?" + +"N-no!" said Henrietta. "But I had expected to win the first prize. And I +don't know what my friends will say when I come back home without it." + +"Well, everybody can't win it," said her new acquaintance. "Not the same +year, anyhow!" And then she looked Henrietta up and down for a few +moments, while Henrietta squirmed uneasily. "Where do you come from?" she +asked at last. + +"I live on Farmer Green's place, in Pleasant Valley," Henrietta informed +her. + +The lady in the next pen shook her head. "I've never heard of Pleasant +Valley," she remarked, "nor of Farmer Green. He must be small potatoes." + +Well, Henrietta was astonished. She began to feel as if she were nobody +at all. She had supposed that everybody knew of Pleasant Valley--and of +Farmer Green, too. As for the remark, "small potatoes," she didn't +understand it at all. So she inquired what it meant. + +"It means," said her neighbor, "that Farmer Green can't be of much +account." + +That speech made Henrietta Hen almost lose her temper. + +"Mr. Green," she cried, "is a fine man. And I'll have you know that I +wouldn't live anywhere but on his farm!" + + + + +XXIII + +GETTING ACQUAINTED + + +Not liking her neighbor on her right, at the fair, Henrietta Hen sidled +up to the wire netting on the opposite side of her pen. Peering through +it, she examined the person whom she saw just beyond, in a pen of her +own. + +A very sleek hen was this, who gave Henrietta a slight nod. + +"We may as well speak," she said, "since we're to live next to each other +for a week." + +"A week!" Henrietta groaned. "Shall I have to stay cooped up here as long +as that?" + +"Yes!" said Neighbor Number 2. "And I don't blame you for feeling as you +seem to. A week is a long time for everybody here--except me." + +Henrietta Hen didn't understand her. + +"I'm going to win the first prize--with my chicks," Neighbor Number 2 +announced. "Of course _that's_ worth waiting here a week." + +"I don't see how _you_ can win the first prize!" Henrietta exclaimed. + +"Why not?" demanded the other. And she pressed against the wire netting +of her pen and stuck her head through it as far as she could, as if she +would have pecked Henrietta had she been able to. + +"Because--" Henrietta explained--"because the lady on the other side of +me is going to win it." + +"Who said so?" + +"She did," Henrietta answered. + +"Ha! ha!" cackled Neighbor Number 2. "That's a good joke. She hasn't any +more chance of winning than--than _you_ have!" + +Now, Henrietta Hen couldn't help being puzzled. But whoever might win the +first prize, she was sure it couldn't be she. Hadn't her neighbors on +either side of her the same as told her that she couldn't win? + +Henrietta would have felt quite glum, except that she couldn't very well +mope in the midst of the terrific racket all about her. Soon her +neighbors--both Number 1 and Number 2--were having loud disputes with the +hens in the pens on the further side of them. It seemed as if every hen +at the fair had left her manners at home--if she ever had any. + +"Goodness!" Henrietta Hen murmured to herself. "If there's a prize, it +must be for the one that can make the most noise." + +In a little while throngs of men, women and children crowded into the +Poultry Hall. They paused before the pens and looked at the occupants, +making remarks that were sometimes full of praise and sometimes +slighting. + +Henrietta Hen felt terribly uneasy when people began to stop and stare at +her. She dreaded to hear what they would say. After the way her next-door +neighbors had talked to her she didn't believe anybody would have a word +of praise for her. + +She soon heard all sorts of remarks about herself. Some said she was too +little and some said she was too big; others exclaimed that her legs were +too short, while still others declared that they were too long! As +these--and many similar--comments fell upon Henrietta's ears she promptly +decided that there wasn't anything about her that was as it should be. + +Having always called herself (before she left home) a "speckled beauty," +she began to feel very low in her mind. And there was only one thing that +kept her from being downright sad. All the sightseers agreed that she had +some pretty chicks. + +Henrietta couldn't help wishing that they had a different mother--one +that was worthy of them. + + + + +XXIV + +WINNING FIRST PRIZE + + +Henrietta Hen was waiting as patiently as she could for the fair to come +to an end. She tried to close her ears to the boasts of her neighbors on +either side of her, that they were going to win the first prize. She had +heard too many unpleasant remarks about herself to have even the +slightest hope of winning any prize at all--let alone the first. + +"Anyhow, we'll be going home tonight," Henrietta said to herself. "And +I'll never, never, never come to another fair. I'll go and hide 'way up +high in the haymow where they can't find me before I'll spend another +week in a place like this." + +While she was muttering under her breath like that some men came up to +her pen. And Henrietta Hen promptly squatted down in the furthest corner +of it, hoping they wouldn't say anything disagreeable about her. She felt +that she had already heard about all she could stand. She didn't even +look at her callers. And soon they moved away. + +Then Henrietta glanced up. She noticed something blue dangling from the +front of her pen. And there was a greater commotion than ever on all +sides of her. + +"What is it?" she cried. "What has happened?" + +Neighbor Number 1, on her right, shot a spiteful look at her. + +"Those stupid judges!" she spluttered. "They've made a terrible blunder. +They've gone and given you and your chicks the first prize. And of course +it was meant for me and mine!" + +"It wasn't!" screamed Neighbor Number 2 (on Henrietta's left). "That +prize was intended for me and my children!" + +"Who won second and third?" cried a noisy hen from across the way. + +"They're both at the other end of the hall!" somebody shrieked. + +"It's an outrage! It isn't fair! We've been cheated!" Henrietta Hen's +nearest neighbors clamored. But nobody paid any attention to them. + +As for Henrietta, she didn't quite know how to act. She had intended, +when she left home, to do a good deal of strutting back and forth in her +pen, with now and then a pause to preen herself, to make sure that she +looked her best. But somehow she no longer cared to put on grand airs, as +of old. She remembered that some of the other hens at the fair had been +haughty and proud and had smoothed their feathers, declaring boldly that +they expected to win the first prize. + +Henrietta had heard it said that fine feathers don't make fine birds. And +she knew at last what that meant. It meant that gay clothes and lofty +ways and boastful talk were of no account at all. + +So Henrietta tried to behave as if nothing unusual had happened. She told +her chicks that they were going home that evening, and that she would be +glad to be back on the farm again, among plain home-folks. + +At last Johnnie Green and his father came to load Henrietta and her +family into the wagon. + +"Well," said the old horse Ebenezer to Henrietta. "Did you enjoy the +races?" + +"I didn't have a chance to see them," she replied. + +"That's a pity," he told her. And then he asked her, "What's that blue +tag hanging from your pen?" + +"That--" said Henrietta--"that means that my chicks won the first prize." + +"She helped win it herself," cried old dog Spot, who was yelping about +the wagon. "Our little speckled hen was the best hen at the fair!" + +"Nonsense!" Henrietta exclaimed. But, all the same, she couldn't help +being pleased. + +THE END + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + +SLUMBER-TOWN TALES +(Trademark Registered.) +By ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY +AUTHOR OF THE +SLEEPY-TIME TALES and TUCK-ME-IN TALES +Colored Wrapper and Text Illustrations Drawn by HARRY L. SMITH + + +These are fascinating stories of farmyard folk for boys and girls from +about four to eight years of age. + +THE TALE OF MISS KITTY CAT + +When Mrs. Rat saw Miss Kitty Cat washing her face, she knew it meant +rain. And she wouldn't let her husband leave home without his umbrella. + +THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN + +Henrietta Hen was an empty-headed creature with strange notions. She +never laid an egg without making a great fuss about it. + +THE TALE OF THE MULEY COW + +The Muley Cow belonged to Johnnie Green. He often milked her; and she +seldom put her foot in the milk pail. + +THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT + +A vain fellow was Turkey Proudfoot. He loved to strut about the farmyard +and spread his tail, which he claimed was the most elegant one in the +neighborhood. + +THE TALE OF PONY TWINKLEHEELS + +Pony Twinkleheels trotted so fast you could scarcely tell one foot from +another. Everybody had to step lively to get out of his way. + +THE TALE OF OLD DOG SPOT + +Old dog Spot had a keen nose. He was always ready to chase the wild folk. +And he always looked foolish when they got away from him. + +THE TALE OF GRUNTY PIG + +Grunty pig was a great trial to his mother. He found it hard not to put +his feet right in the feeding trough at meal time. + + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + +SLUMBER-TOWN TALES +(Trademark Registered.) +By ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY +AUTHOR OF THE +SLEEPY-TIME TALES and TUCK-ME-IN TALES +Colored Wrapper and Text Illustrations Drawn by HARRY L. SMITH + + +This series of animal stories for children from three to eight years, +tells of the adventures of the four-footed creatures of our American +woods and fields in an amusing way, which delights small two-footed human +beings. + +THE TALE OF CUFFY BEAR +THE TALE OF FRISKY SQUIRREL +THE TALE OF TOMMY FOX +THE TALE OF FATTY COON +THE TALE OF BILLY WOODCHUCK +THE TALE OF JIMMY RABBIT +THE TALE OF PETER MINK +THE TALE OF SANDY CHIPMUNK +THE TALE OF BROWNIE BEAVER +THE TALE OF PADDY MUSKRAT +THE TALE OF FERDINAND FROG +THE TALE OF DICKIE DEER MOUSE +THE TALE OF TIMOTHY TURTLE +THE TALE OF BENNY BADGER +THE TALE OF MAJOR MONKEY +THE TALE OF GRUMPY WEASEL +THE TALE OF GRANDFATHER MOLE +THE TALE OF MASTER MEADOW MOUSE + + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES + +1. Punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards. +2. Frontispiece illustration relocated to after title page. +3. Typographic error corrected from original: + p. 53 "Whtiey" to "Whitey" ("said old Whitey.") + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Henrietta Hen, by Arthur Scott Bailey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN *** + +***** This file should be named 18652.txt or 18652.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/6/5/18652/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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