XTHE 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 theirpraise 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 needto 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 ather. "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.
"Come Up to My Nest!" Cried Henrietta Hen. (_Page 50_)"Come Up to My Nest!" Cried Henrietta Hen. (Page 50)
XIOLD 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 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."
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.
XIIPLAYING 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 PollyPlymouth 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 youtriedto 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 herefor him. But he'll find none ofmybeautiful 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."
XIIITWO 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 ofourgarden?" 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. "Iorderedyou out of the garden."
"Youordered 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. Imeant 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
Henrietta Hen Scolds Jimmy Rabbit. (_Page 62_)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 itwas 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?"
XIVEARS—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 comerunning 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 stoppedhimby 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."
XVHENRIETTA'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 tidbitsthat 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.Youdon'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. "Iwas mistaken. It meanseverythingto 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'llbreak!"
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. Shewouldn't have liked him to sit on them.
It always upset her to see her eggs broken.
XVITHE 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 herwith 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 saidto 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 wonderthat 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.
XVIIA 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 theother 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."
XVIIIIN 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 knowwhya 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 PollyWoodchuck 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."
"Don't Worry!" Said Aunt Polly Woodchuck. (_Page 91_)"Don't Worry!" Said Aunt Polly Woodchuck. (Page 91)
XIXAUNT 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 personwantto 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 alwayscarry a feather in my basket, hereafter."
"Onefeather 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 "Sakesalive!" 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 oneswill 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.
XXA 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, andjolted 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!"