SAID THE
LITTLE
RED ROOSTER
“MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS!
THE THINGS ARE TOUGH.
SEEMS THAT WORMS ARE GET- 0
TING SCARCE. AND I CANNOT FIND 00
ENOUGH. WHAT’S BECOME 000
OF ALL THOSE FAT ONES 0000
IS A MYSTERY TO ME: 00000
THERE WERE THOUSANDS THRU 0000000
THAT RAINY SPELL – BUT NOW 000000000000
WHERE CAN THEY BE?” THE OLD 0000000000000000
BLACK HEN THAT HEARD HIM DIDN’T 000000000000000000
GRUMBLE AND COMPLAIN. SHE HAD GONE 00000000000000000000
THROUGH LOTS OF DRY SPELLS. SHE HAD LIVED 000000000000000000000
THROUGH FLOODS OF RAIN. SHE FLEW UP TO THE GRINDSTONE AND SHE
GAVE HER CLAWS A WHET, AS SHE SAID, “I’VE NEVER SEEN THE TIME
WHEN THERE WEREN’T WORMS TO GET.” SHE PICKED A NEW AND UNDUG
SPOT. THE EARTH WAS HARD AND FIRM. THE LITTLE ROOSTER JEERED:
“NEW GROUND! THAT’S NO PLACE FOR A WORM.” THE OLD BLAK HEN JUST
SPREAD HER FEET, AS SHE DUG BOTH FAST AND FREE. “I MUST GO TO
THE WORMS,” SHE SAID, “THE WORMS WON’T COME TO ME.” THE ROOSTER
VAINLY SPENT HIS DAY, THROUGH HABIT, BY THE WAYS WHERE FAT ROUND
WORMS HAD PASSED IN SQUADS BACK IN THE RAINY DAYS. WHEN NIGHT-
FALL FOUND HIM SUPPERLESS, HE GROWLED IN ACCENT ROUGH, “I’M
HUNGRY AS A FOWL CAN BE. CONDITIONS SURE ARE TOUGH.” HE TURNED
THEN TO THE BLACK HEN AND SAID, “IT’S WORSE WITH YOU,
FOR YOU’RE NOT ONLY HUNGRY, BUT YOU MUST BE TIRED, TOO. I
RESTED WHILE I LOOKED FOR WORMS SO I FEEL FAIRLY PERK: BUT
HOW ARE YOU? WITHOUT WORMS, TOO, AND AFTER ALL
THE WORK.” THE OLD BLACK HEN HOPPED
TO HER PERCH AND DROOPED HER
EYES TO SLEEP, AND MUR-
MERED IN A DROWSY
TONE: “YOUNG MAN,
HEAR THIS AND
WEEP:
0000
0000
0000
0000
I’M FULL OF WORMS AND HAPPY, FOR I’VE
DINED BOTH LONG AND WELL. THE WORMS ARE
THERE AS ALWAYS. BUT I HAD TO DIG LIKE CRAZY.”
