# The Little Red Hen

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Retold by Florence White Williams
THE LITTLE RED HEN
An Old English Folk Tale
Retold and Illustrated
by FLORENCE WHITE WILLIAMS
The Saalfield Publishing Company Chicago - Akron, Ohio - New York PRINTED IN U. S. A.
COPYRIGHT, 1918 BY THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
"Chuck-chuck-chuck!" to her chickies.
When she discovered that, she knew it ought to be planted. She was so busy hunting food for herself and her family that, naturally, she thought she ought not to take time to plant it.
"Who will plant the Seed?"
But the Pig said, "Not I,"
and the Cat said, "Not I,"
and the Rat said, "Not I."
"Well, then," said the Little Red Hen, "I will."
And she did.
Then she went on with her daily duties through the long summer days, scratching for worms and feeding her chicks, while
the Pig grew fat,
and the Cat grew fat,
and the Rat grew fat,
and the Wheat grew tall and ready for harvest.
So one day the Little Red Hen chanced to notice how large the Wheat was and that the grain was ripe, so she ran about calling briskly: "Who will cut the Wheat?"
The Pig said, "Not I,"
the Cat said, "Not I,"
and the Rat said, "Not I."
"Well, then," said the Little Red Hen, "I will." And she did.
On the ground lay the nicely cut Wheat, ready to be gathered and threshed, but the newest and yellowest and downiest of Mrs. Hen's chicks set up a "peep-peep-peeping" in their most vigorous fashion, proclaiming to the world at large, but most particularly to their mother, that she was neglecting them.
Poor Little Red Hen! She felt quite bewildered and hardly knew where to turn.
Her attention was sorely divided between her duty to her children and her duty to the Wheat, for which she felt responsible.
So, again, in a very hopeful tone, she called out, "Who will thresh the Wheat?"
But the Pig, with a grunt, said, "Not I," and the Cat, with a meow, said, "Not I," and the Rat, with a squeak, said, "Not I."
So the Little Red Hen, looking, it must be admitted, rather discouraged, said, "Well, I will, then."
And she did.
Of course, she had to feed her babies first, though, and when she had gotten them all to sleep for their afternoon nap, she went out and threshed the Wheat. Then she called out: "Who will carry the Wheat to the mill to be ground?"
Turning their backs with snippy glee, that Pig said, "Not I," and that Cat said, "Not I," and that Rat said, "Not I."
Carrying the sack of Wheat, she trudged off to the distant mill. There she ordered the Wheat ground into beautiful white flour. When the miller brought her the flour she walked slowly back all the way to her own barnyard in her own picketty-pecketty fashion.
She even managed, in spite of her load, to catch a nice juicy worm now and then and had one left for the babies when she reached them. Those cunning little fluff-balls were so glad to see their mother. For the
After this really strenuous day Mrs. Hen retired to her slumbers earlier than usual - indeed, before the colors came into the sky to herald the setting of the sun, her usual bedtime hour.
She would have liked to sleep late in the morning, but her chicks, joining in the morning chorus of the hen yard, drove away all hopes of such a luxury.
Even as she sleepily half opened one eye, the thought came to her that to-day that Wheat must, somehow, be made into bread.
She was not in the habit of making bread, although, of course, anyone can make it if he or she follows the recipe with care, and she knew perfectly well that she could do it if necessary.
So after her children were fed and made sweet and fresh for the day, she hunted up the Pig, the Cat and the Rat.
Still confident that they would surely help her some day she sang out, "Who will make the bread?"
Alas for the Little Red Hen! Once more her hopes were dashed! For the Pig said, "Not I,"
the Cat said, "Not I," and the Rat said, "Not I."
So the Little Red Hen said once more, "I will then," and she did.
Feeling that she might have known all the time that she would have to do it all herself, she went and put on a fresh apron and spotless cook's cap. First of all she set the dough, as was proper. When it was time she brought out the moulding board and the baking tins, moulded the bread, divided it into loaves, and put them into the oven to bake. All the while the Cat sat lazily by, giggling and chuckling.
And close at hand the vain Rat powdered his nose and admired himself in a mirror. In the distance could be heard the long-drawn snores of the dozing Pig.
The Red Hen ambled in her picketty-pecketty way toward the source of all this excitement.
Small wonder that she was the most excited person in the barnyard!
Then, probably because she had acquired the habit, the Red Hen called:
"Who will eat the Bread?"
All the animals in the barnyard were watching hungrily and smacking their lips in anticipation, and
the Pig said, "I will,"
the Cat said, "I will,"
the Rat said, "I will."
But the Little Red Hen said,
"No, you won't. I will."
And she did.
Uniform With This Volume: Little Black Sambo Willie Mouse Wee Peter Pug
The Saalfield Publishing Company Chicago AKRON, OHIO New York
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1953, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 70 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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