The White Hen
[_Looking for him._] Where?
The Pigeon
On the sloping roof.
The White Hen
[Lifting her head and seeing him.] Ah!
The Pigeon
Though I am the bearer of an important missive, I would not miss the opportunity—Good evening, Hen!
The White Hen
Postman, howdedo?
The Pigeon
My duty on the Postal Service of the Air obliging me this summer evening to pass your habitations, I should be most happy if—
The White Hen
[Spying a crumb of some sort.] One moment, please.
Another Hen
[Running eagerly towards her.] What are you eating?
All the Hens
[Arriving at a run.] What’s she eating?
The White Hen
A simple grain of wheat.