“He stops behind at the brook,” said Brother Fox, turning his head away that Goody might not see him laughing.
So Goody went back to the dairy, and she wondered and wondered what made the flocks grow smaller.
At last she had churned enough butter to make a fine cake and she went out to the poultry roost for eggs with which to enrich it.
Alas, such a hubbub, and cackling, and fussing did she find.
The cock stood on the pump, crying loudly, “Cock-a-doodle-do.”
The hens ran about cackling, and out of their midst walked Brother Fox with a chicken over his back, and his hat full of eggs.
And as he went along he sang to all the poultry yard:
“Tum-ti-ti, Tum-ti-ti,
Tum, tum, ti,
Old Goody’s herdsman,