THE STARVING OF MRS. LEGHORN

Mr. and Mrs. Leghorn often went nutting. Mr. Leghorn was very polite and kind to Mrs. Leghorn. He ran about searching everywhere for nuts. When he found one he would call to Mrs. Leghorn, who would hasten to him. Then he would pick up the nut, roll it over and over, lay it down, and pick it up again a dozen times, all the time telling Mrs. Leghorn what a very nice nut that was, what a good hen she was, and how smart he was to find nuts for her. At last he would drop the nut before Mrs. Leghorn, who would peck it once or twice to make sure that all Mr. Leghorn had said of it was true, and then swallow it whole, without once offering to share it with Mr. Leghorn.

One day Mr. Leghorn found a very large nut, the largest nut he had ever seen. How proudly he called to Mrs. Leghorn! It took him a long time to tell all about that big nut and how he had found it, to praise Mrs. Leghorn’s goodness, and to brag about his own smartness. But finally he finished and turned the nut over to Mrs. Leghorn. She seized it greedily and was about to swallow it, but—it wouldn’t go down! She tried again and again, she stretched her beak wider and wider, but it was no use. The nut was too large.

Mr. Leghorn, who had been watching Mrs. Leghorn from a little distance, became alarmed.

“O, my poor Mrs. Leghorn,” he cried, “what shall I do? You can’t eat that nut; you’ll surely starve. What shall I do?”

“Run and ask Mr. Wise Owl,” said Mrs. Leghorn. “He can tell us what to do.”

So away ran Mr. Leghorn to the Wise Owl, screaming with all his might.

“O, Mr. Wise Owl,” he cried, “my poor Mrs. Leghorn is starving. She can’t swallow the big nut. What shall I do?”

“Who, who, who?” hooted the Wise Owl, blinking his great round eyes.

“Mrs. Leghorn, my Mrs. Leghorn, my own dear Mrs. Leghorn,” fairly shrieked Mr. Cock. “She can’t swallow the big nut. She will starve. Can you tell me what to do?”

Mr. Wise Owl stared straight ahead a moment—it seemed an age to Mr. Leghorn—then answered slowly, “Yes, Mr. Leghorn, I can tell you what to do. But you must first bring me a mouse.”

Away rushed Mr. Leghorn to Pussy Cat. “My good Miss Pussy Cat,” he cried, “dear Mrs. Leghorn is starving. Will you please catch me a mouse? I want it to take to Mr. Wise Owl, who is going to tell me what to do.”

“Yes, Mr. Leghorn,” answered Pussy Cat, “I will catch you a mouse, but you must first bring me a saucer of milk.”

Off flew Mr. Leghorn to Mrs. Mooly Cow.

“Dear, kind Mrs. Mooly Cow,” he said, “poor Mrs. Leghorn is starving. Will you please give me a saucer of milk? I want it to take to Miss Pussy Cat, who is going to catch me a mouse for Mr. Wise Owl, who is going to tell me what to do.”

“Yes, Mr. Leghorn,” answered Mrs. Mooly Cow, “I will give you a saucer of milk, but you must first bring me a bundle of corn.”

Away sped Mr. Leghorn to the Farmer.

“O, Mr. Farmer,” said Mr. Leghorn, “Mrs. Leghorn is starving. Please will you be so kind as to cut me a bundle of corn? I want it to take to Mrs. Mooly Cow, who is going to give me a saucer of milk for Miss Pussy Cat, who is going to catch me a mouse for Mr. Wise Owl, who is going to tell me what to do.”

“Yes, indeed, Mr. Leghorn,” said the Farmer, “I will cut you a bundle of corn, but you must first bring me a new coat.”

Off hastened Mr. Leghorn to the Tailor.

“O, Mr. Tailor,” cried Mr. Leghorn, “Mrs. Leghorn is starving. Won’t you please give me a new coat? I want it to take to Mr. Farmer, who is going to cut me a bundle of corn for Mrs. Mooly Cow, who is going to give me a saucer of milk for Miss Pussy Cat, who is going to catch me a mouse for Mr. Wise Owl, who is going to tell me what to do.”

“Yes, Mr. Leghorn,” answered Mr. Tailor, “I shall be very glad to give you a new coat, but you must first bring me a pound of wool.”

Away hurried Mr. Leghorn to Mrs. Sheep.

“O, good Mrs. Sheep,” he said, “Mrs. Leghorn is starving. Do, please, give me a pound of wool. I want it to take to Mr. Tailor, who is going to give me a new coat for Mr. Farmer, who is going to cut me a bundle of corn for Mrs. Mooly Cow, who is going to give me a saucer of milk for Miss Pussy Cat, who is going to catch me a mouse for Mr. Wise Owl, who is going to tell me what to do.”

“To be sure, Mr. Leghorn,” said Mrs. Sheep, “I will give you a pound of wool, but you must first bring me a bunch of clover.”

Away ran Mr. Leghorn to the Farmer’s Wife.

“O, good, kind Farmer’s Wife,” cried Mr. Leghorn, “Mrs. Leghorn is starving. Won’t you, please, pull me a bunch of clover? I want it to take to Mrs. Sheep, who is going to give me a pound of wool for Mr. Tailor, who is going to give me a new coat for Mr. Farmer, who is going to cut me a bundle of corn for Mrs. Mooly Cow, who is going to give me a saucer of milk for Miss Pussy Cat, who is going to catch me a mouse for Mr. Wise Owl, who is going to tell me what to do.”

“Yes, yes,” answered the kind Farmer’s Wife, “I will gladly pull you a bunch of clover, but you must first bring me a dozen eggs.”

Mr. Leghorn fairly flew back to Mrs. Leghorn, who was still trying vainly to swallow the large nut. He seemed to forget all his politeness.

“Where’s your nest, Mrs. Leghorn, where’s your nest? Tell me this instant!” he shrieked.

Mrs. Leghorn had never told any one where her nest was. That was her secret; and she would not have told her secret now—not even to keep herself from starving—had she not been so frightened at Mr. Leghorn, who stood glaring at her fiercely. She thought he had gone mad and would do her harm. So she answered faintly,

“Under the corner of the barn.”

Away to the corner of the barn rushed Mr. Leghorn, where he found Mrs. Leghorn’s nest full of eggs. He took a dozen in a basket and hurried off to the Farmer’s Wife, who pulled him a bunch of clover, which he carried to Mrs. Sheep, who gave him a pound of wool, which he took to Mr. Tailor, who gave him a new coat, which he brought to Mr. Farmer, who cut him a bundle of corn, which he carried to Mrs. Mooly Cow, who gave him a saucer of milk, which he took to Miss Pussy Cat, who caught him a mouse, which he carried to Mr. Wise Owl.

“There, Mr. Wise Owl,” cried Mr. Leghorn, quite out of breath, “there’s a nice fat mouse. Now tell me what I shall do for poor Mrs. Leghorn, who is starving because she can’t swallow the big nut.”

“Who, who, who?” cried Mr. Wise Owl, staring sleepily at the fat mouse.

“Mrs. Leghorn, she is starving!” screamed Mr. Leghorn, now quite angry. “She can’t swallow the big nut. You said you would tell me what to do.”

“O, yes,” said Mr. Wise Owl, “to be sure, that’s easy. Just go and find Mrs. Leghorn some smaller nuts.”