I saw the speckled hen hide herself
Behind a pile of hoes and rakes
And pieces of boards and broken stakes.
“Ah, ha! old hen, I have found you now,
But to reach your nest I don’t know how,
Unless I could climb or creep or crawl
Along the edge of the pig-pen wall.”
And while I stood in a thoughtful mood,
The speckled hen cackled as loud as she could,
And flew away, as much as to say,