"Now," he asked, "where in the world did they get you? You are an old, bald-headed creature, and your feathers need oiling. You look like a last year's turkey." And off he strutted.
The cat and the dog leaned against the barrels and laughed until the tears ran down their faces.
"Keep still," said the dog. "Here comes speckled hen and her chickens."
Speckled hen walked around, picking up bits of corn. Suddenly she looked up and saw the mirror.
"There is a hen with a brood of chicks, but they are not so handsome as mine," she said, walking toward the looking-glass. "Where do you live? I know you do not belong here." And she looked closer at the other hen.
Click! Her bill hit the glass.
"Well, if she isn't in a glass coop!" the hen said, stepping back. "If master has bought her and those chicks, there will be trouble. Mercy! One of the chicks is bow-legged, and they are a skinny looking lot."
Then she clucked to her chicks and walked out of the barn.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" laughed the dog; "they all think the same. They certainly are a conceited lot. Here comes the goose."