“But you can very easily tear a place open in this wire screening that will be big enough for me to squeeze through. Oh, please say you can!” she pleaded.
“Better’n that I can do, Miss Toppy. Watch closely and you will see what will make your little eyes pop open wider than they’ve ever been before.”
Billy went up close to the Plymouth Rock’s tiny house, lowered his head, and after turning it this way and that, he stepped proudly back, bleating his satisfaction and pleasure.
“Step out, pretty Toppy, and enjoy a stroll about the grounds,” he invited.
“Step out? Step out?” she clucked indignantly. “I would if I could. Don’t make my life more unbearable than it is by such idle words!”
“But Toppy, I mean it. Come out! Your cage is a prison no longer. Hurry out of your cell and enjoy the fine morning with your friend.”
“You old torment!” Toppy scolded, and, forgetting the barrier between them, she fluffed up her feathers and flew at him to peck him on the nose, his tender spot.
Open flew the door and out tumbled the hen, fluttering wildly to the floor.
“Help! Help!” she cackled.
“You’re free, Toppykins!” congratulated her rescuer, “Hurrah, Hurrah!” he exulted.