“Then the Guinea hens began to laugh, and the old Turkey Gobbler was so tickled he came near swallowing his snout. Mrs. Blue Hen hung her head with shame, and carried her children away off in the woods.
“But her flat-footed chicken gave rise to a byword in all that country. When any stranger came along looking rough and ragged, it was the common saying that he was the Blue Hen’s chicken.”
“I’ve heard it many a time,” remarked Mrs. Meadows.
“There was no story in that,” Buster John suggested.
“No,” replied Mr. Rabbit. “Just some every-day facts picked up and strung together.”
“Speaking of stories,” said Mrs. Meadows, “I have one in my mind that is a sure enough story—one of the old-fashioned kind.”
“Well, please, ma’am, tell it,” said Buster John, so seriously that they all laughed except Mr. Rabbit.
V.
HOW A KING WAS FOUND.
“What about the little girl who had the vial of sparkling water?” said Sweetest Susan, turning to Mr. Thimblefinger, just as Mrs. Meadows was about to begin her story.