Granny Fox Plans To Get A Fat Hen
Full half success for Fox or Man
Is won by working out a plan.
—_Old Granny Fox_.
Granny Fox knows this. No one knows it better. Whatever she does is
first carefully planned in her wise old head. So now after she had
decided that she and Reddy would try for one of Farmer Brown’s fat
hens, she lay down to think out a plan to get that fat hen. No one knew
better than she how foolish it would be to go over to that henyard and
just trust to luck for a chance to catch one of those biddies. Of
course, they _might_ be lucky and get a hen that way, but then again
they might be unlucky and get in a peck of trouble.
“You see,” said she to Reddy, “we must not only plan how to get that
fat hen, but we must also plan how to get away with it safely. If only
there was some way of getting in that henhouse at night, there would be
no trouble at all. I don’t suppose there is the least chance of that.”
“Not the least chance in the world,” replied Reddy. “There isn’t a hole
anywhere big enough for even Shadow the Weasel to get through, and
Farmer Brown’s boy is very careful to lock the door every night.”
“There’s a little hole that the hens go in and out of during the day,
which is big enough for one of us to slip through, I believe,” said
Granny thoughtfully.
“Sure! But it’s always closed at night,” snapped Reddy. “Besides, to
get to that or the door either, you have got to get inside the henyard,
and there’s a gate to that which we can’t open.”
“People are sometimes careless,—even you, Reddy,” said Granny.
Reddy squirmed uneasily, for he had been in trouble many times through
carelessness. “Well, what of it?” he demanded a wee bit crossly.
“Nothing much, only if that hen-yard gate should _happen_ to be left
open, and if Farmer Brown’s boy should _happen_ to forget to close that
little hole that the hens go through, and if we _happened_ to be around
at just that time—”
“Too many ifs to get a dinner with,” interrupted Reddy.
“Perhaps,” replied Granny mildly, “but I’ve noticed that it is the one
who has an eye open for all the little ifs in life that fares the best.
Now I’ve kept an eye on that henyard, and I’ve noticed that very often
Farmer Brown’s boy _doesn’t_ close the henyard gate at night. I suppose
he thinks that if the henhouse door is locked, the gate doesn’t matter.
Any one who is careless about one thing, is likely to be careless about
another. Sometime he may forget to close that hole. I told you that we
would try for one of those hens to-morrow morning, but the more I think
about it, the more I think it will be wiser to visit that henhouse a
few nights before we run the risk of trying to catch a hen in broad
daylight. In fact, I am pretty sure I can make Farmer Brown’s boy
forget to close that gate.”
“How?” demanded Reddy eagerly.
Granny grinned. “I’ll try it first and tell you afterwards,” said she.
“I believe Farmer Brown’s boy closes the henhouse up just before jolly,
round, red Mr. Sun goes to bed behind the Purple Hills, doesn’t he?”
Reddy nodded. Many times from a safe hiding-place he had hungrily
watched Farmer Brown’s boy shut the biddies up. It was always just
before the Black Shadows began to creep out from their hiding-places.
“I thought so,” said Granny. The truth is, she _knew_ so. There was
nothing about that henhouse and what went on there that Granny didn’t
know quite as well as Reddy. “You stay right here this afternoon until
I return. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Let me go along,” begged Reddy.
“No,” replied Granny in such a decided tone that Reddy knew it would be
of no use to tease. “Sometimes two can do what one cannot do alone, and
sometimes one can do what two might spoil. Now we may as well take a
nap until it is time for Mr. Sun to go to bed. Just you leave it to
your old Granny to take care of the first of those ifs. For the other
one we’ll have to trust to luck, but you know we are lucky sometimes.”
With this Granny curled up for a nap, and having nothing better to do,
Reddy followed her example.