She was a nice old mother, but not like yours, little children,
because she was covered all over with feathers, and she had two
wings, which, when she felt crusty, she would spread out until she
seemed three times her usual size. She had always lived in the
country, roaming around in the grass or scratching in the garden.
She was a fluttering, fuming creature, but sometimes very civil and
pretty-looking. This little mother was just an old hen.
Once upon a time she had been very quiet for three weeks. She had
sat still the most of that time, and, indeed, the poor thing went
half-starved often rather than forsake the little white eggs in her
nest. She knew she must keep them warm, no matter what happened.
At last there came a fine spring morning, when Mrs. Hen stepped
very carefully off her nest. In it there lay a mass of broken
shells. She led into the sunlight a half-dozen golden balls. As
they tottled along by her side, they looked very pretty. Of such a
brood any mother might be proud.
Mother Hen was ever so proud. Any one could see that. She flustered
about, calling one little bright speck to her, and then another,
while scratching in the earth in search of something very nice for
her pets.
Four weeks sped by. The country grew prettier and greener day by
day. This kind mother thought she would give her darlings a
treat--a sort of picnic. So off she started toward the meadow, the
little brood walking after her. They went in single file through
the path, the old hen's head bobbing up and down through the
clover, as she encouraged the little mities waddling along to keep
up with her. She came to a brook which fairly danced in the
sunlight under the old willows. She drew near, and began to cluck,
when, lo! her little brood stepped off all at once into the
sparkling waters. The golden balls floated on the amber stream.
Poor old hen! how she fluttered and clucked and called! But all in
vain; her children did not mind her. They knew more about water
than she did, for these chicks were mere goslings. On they swam,
and the poor hen did not know what to do.
But the little goslings came back after a while, and cuddled that
night under their mother's wing.