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 otherfor a week."
"A week!" Henrietta groaned. "Shall I have to stay cooped up here as longas that?"
"Yes!" said Neighbor Number 2. "And I don't blame you for feeling as youseem 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 2announced. "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 nettingof her pen and stuck her head through it as far as she could, as if shewould have pecked Henrietta had she been able to.
"Because--" Henrietta explained--"because the lady on the other side ofme 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 anymore chance of winning than--than _you_ have!"
Now, Henrietta Hen couldn't help being puzzled. But whoever might win thefirst prize, she was sure it couldn't be she. Hadn't her neighbors oneither 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 wellmope in the midst of the terrific racket all about her. Soon herneighbors--both Number 1 and Number 2--were having loud disputes with thehens in the pens on the further side of them. It seemed as if every henat the fair had left her manners at home--if she ever had any.
"Goodness!" Henrietta Hen murmured to herself. "If there's a prize, itmust be for the one that can make the most noise."
In a little while throngs of men, women and children crowded into thePoultry Hall. They paused before the pens and looked at the occupants,making remarks that were sometimes full of praise and sometimesslighting.
Henrietta Hen felt terribly uneasy when people began to stop and stare ather. She dreaded to hear what they would say. After the way her next-doorneighbors had talked to her she didn't believe anybody would have a wordof praise for her.
She soon heard all sorts of remarks about herself. Some said she was toolittle and some said she was too big; others exclaimed that her legs weretoo short, while still others declared that they were too long! Asthese--and many similar--comments fell upon Henrietta's ears she promptlydecided 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 thatkept her from being downright sad. All the sightseers agreed that she hadsome pretty chicks.
Henrietta couldn't help wishing that they had a different mother--onethat was worthy of them.
XXIV
WINNING FIRST PRIZE
Henrietta Hen was waiting as patiently as she could for the fair to cometo an end. She tried to close her ears to the boasts of her neighbors oneither side of her, that they were going to win the first prize. She hadheard too many unpleasant remarks about herself to have even theslightest hope of winning any prize at all--let alone the first.
"Anyhow, we'll be going home tonight," Henrietta said to herself. "AndI'll never, never, never come to another fair. I'll go and hide 'way uphigh in the haymow where they can't find me before I'll spend anotherweek in a place like this."
While she was muttering under her breath like that some men came up toher pen. And Henrietta Hen promptly squatted down in the furthest cornerof it, hoping they wouldn't say anything disagreeable about her. She feltthat she had already heard about all she could stand. She didn't evenlook at her callers. And soon they moved away.
Then Henrietta glanced up. She noticed something blue dangling from thefront of her pen. And there was a greater commotion than ever on allsides 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 courseit was meant for me and mine!"
"It wasn't!" screamed Neighbor Number 2 (on Henrietta's left). "Thatprize 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'snearest 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 herpen, with now and then a pause to preen herself, to make sure that shelooked her best. But somehow she no longer cared to put on grand airs, asof old. She remembered that some of the other hens at the fair had beenhaughty and proud and had smoothed their feathers, declaring boldly thatthey expected to win the first prize.
Henrietta had heard it said that fine feathers don't make fine birds. Andshe knew at last what that meant. It meant that gay clothes and loftyways and boastful talk were of no account at all.
So Henrietta tried to behave as if nothing unusual had happened. She toldher chicks that they were going home that evening, and that she would beglad to be back on the farm again, among plain home-folks.
At last Johnnie Green and his father came to load Henrietta and herfamily into the wagon.
"Well," said the old horse Ebenezer to Henrietta. "Did you enjoy theraces?"
"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 bluetag 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 aboutthe wagon. "Our little speckled hen was the best hen at the fair!"
"Nonsense!" Henrietta exclaimed. But, all the same, she couldn't helpbeing pleased.
THE END
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SLUMBER-TOWN TALES(Trademark Registered.)By ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEYAUTHOR OF THESLEEPY-TIME TALES and TUCK-ME-IN TALESColored Wrapper and Text Illustrations Drawn by HARRY L. SMITH
These are fascinating stories of farmyard folk for boys and girls fromabout 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 meantrain. 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. Shenever 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 sheseldom put her foot in the milk pail.
THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT
A vain fellow was Turkey Proudfoot. He loved to strut about the farmyardand spread his tail, which he claimed was the most elegant one in theneighborhood.
THE TALE OF PONY TWINKLEHEELS
Pony Twinkleheels trotted so fast you could scarcely tell one foot fromanother. 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 puthis feet right in the feeding trough at meal time.
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York.
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SLUMBER-TOWN TALES(Trademark Registered.)By ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEYAUTHOR OF THESLEEPY-TIME TALES and TUCK-ME-IN TALESColored Wrappe
r 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 Americanwoods and fields in an amusing way, which delights small two-footed humanbeings.
THE TALE OF CUFFY BEARTHE TALE OF FRISKY SQUIRRELTHE TALE OF TOMMY FOXTHE TALE OF FATTY COONTHE TALE OF BILLY WOODCHUCKTHE TALE OF JIMMY RABBITTHE TALE OF PETER MINKTHE TALE OF SANDY CHIPMUNKTHE TALE OF BROWNIE BEAVERTHE TALE OF PADDY MUSKRATTHE TALE OF FERDINAND FROGTHE TALE OF DICKIE DEER MOUSETHE TALE OF TIMOTHY TURTLETHE TALE OF BENNY BADGERTHE TALE OF MAJOR MONKEYTHE TALE OF GRUMPY WEASELTHE TALE OF GRANDFATHER MOLETHE TALE OF MASTER MEADOW MOUSE
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
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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.")
The Tale of Henrietta Hen Page 5