“It is a beautiful garden, and there is nothing that I like better than to scratch in a garden,” answered the hen, as she bustled through the gate. The chickens followed her, and soon they were all busy scratching among the violets.
They had not been there very long when the red cow walked by the garden. She was on her way to the Pond, but when she saw the open garden gate she decided at once to go in.
“Moo, moo,” she said, “this is delightful. Tender flowers are such a treat.” And she swished her tail over her back as she nipped the daisies from their stems.
“Cluck,” said the hen, “Peep,” said the chicks, “Umph,” said the little pig, for they were pleased to have company. While they were talking a rabbit with very bright eyes peeped in at the gate.
“Oh, is it a party?” he said when he saw the red cow, and the pig with a curly tail, and the hen and chickens.
“Come in,” said the pig, “and help yourself. There is plenty of room.” So the rabbit hopped into the garden and nibbled the green leaves and the young vines.
“How many of us are here?” asked the red cow, but before any of them could count, the gardener came home.
When he looked into the garden he began to cry: “Oh, my pretty pansies! my dear daisies! my sweet violets! my tender young vines!”
“What is he talking about?” said the chickens.
“I suppose he wants us to go out,” answered the hen; and she ruffled her feathers and quarreled as the gardener came hurrying toward them.