"Look out!" Henrietta cried. "You'll pull it out if you're not careful.

And I can't afford to lose any more feathers than I have to."

"Don't worry!" Aunt Polly Woodchuck advised her. "Cheer up! There's nothing the matter with you. You are molting. You are going to get a new outfit of feathers for winter. Your old ones have to fall out in order to make room for the new. And no doubt the fresh ones will be much handsomer than the old."

Henrietta couldn't believe that Aunt Polly knew what she was talking about.

"I can't be molting as early in the fall as this," she protested. "I've never got my winter feathers so soon.... I fear you're mistaken," she told Aunt Polly.

"Oh, no! I'm not mistaken," Aunt Polly Woodchuck insisted. "I know it's early for molting--but haven't you noticed that the wheat grew big this year, and that the bark on young trees is thick? And haven't you observed that Frisky Squirrel is laying up a great store of nuts in his hollow tree, and that the hornets built their paper houses far from the ground this summer?"

Henrietta Hen's mouth fell open as she stared at Aunt Polly Woodchuck.

And when the old lady paused, Henrietta looked quite bewildered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she murmured. "I don't see what all this has to do with molting."

"Some of those signs," Aunt Polly explained, "mean an early winter; and some of 'em mean a cold one. I've never known 'em to fail. And you're molting early so you'll have a good warm coat of feathers by the time winter comes."

Well, Henrietta Hen began to feel better at once. She actually smiled--something she had not done for days.

"Thank you! Thank you!" she said. "You're a fine doctor, Aunt Polly. I don't wonder that folks ask your advice--especially when there's nothing the matter with them!"

And then Henrietta Hen hurried off down the lane. Being timid about hawks, she never felt quite comfortable far from the farmyard.

XX

A GREAT FLURRY

There was a great flurry among Farmer Green's hens. They all insisted on talking at the same time, because they had heard an astonishing bit of news. It was about Henrietta Hen. Wherever she went her neighbors craned their necks at her, just as if they hadn't seen her every day for as long as they could remember.

Henrietta Hen enjoyed the notice that everybody took of her. She went to some trouble to move about a good deal, so that all might have a chance to stare at her. For if there was one thing she liked, it was attention.

There was a reason why Henrietta had suddenly become the most talked-of member of the flock. She was going to the county fair! Furthermore, she expected to take all her children with her. There wasn't the least doubt that it was all true. The whole flock had heard Johnnie Green and his father talking about it.

Of course everybody asked Henrietta Hen a great number of questions. When was she going to leave? How long did she expect to stay at the fair? What did she intend to do there? Would she wear her best clothes if it rained?

There was no end to such inquiries.

Unfortunately, Henrietta Hen could answer very few of them. Never having visited a fair, she had no idea what a fair was like. She only guessed that when the time came, she and her family would be put into a pen, loaded upon a wagon, and jolted over the road that led to the fair, wherever it might be.

But Henrietta didn't intend to let her neighbors find out how little she knew about fairs. She said that before starting she expected to wait for the wagon, that she hoped to stay at the fair as long as it lasted (because she didn't want to miss anything!) and that she intended to come home when the wagon brought her. Furthermore, she planned to wear her best ap.r.o.n, anyhow, because there was sure to be fair weather at a fair!

How could it be otherwise?

Old Ebenezer, the horse, told her to be sure to see the races.

"They're the best part of a fair," he said. "In my younger days I used to take part in them." And then he added, "There's nothing else at a fair that's worth looking at."

"What about the poultry show?" Henrietta Hen asked him. She didn't know what poultry shows were; but she had heard Farmer Green mention them.

"I never paid any attention to the poultry exhibit," the horse Ebenezer replied. "I never took part in that. I suppose it might interest you, however."

Henrietta Hen smiled a knowing sort of smile. And she remarked to Polly Plymouth Rock, who stood near her, that she didn't believe the old horse knew a race from a poultry show. "If he ever went to a fair, I dare say he was. .h.i.tched outside the fence," she sniffed.

Polly Plymouth Rock cackled with amus.e.m.e.nt. And she said something that displeased Henrietta Hen exceedingly.

"Are you going to take that duckling that you hatched out?" she asked.

"Certainly not!" Henrietta snapped. "Please--Miss Plymouth Rock--never mention him again! I'm going to the fair, among strangers. And I shouldn't care to have them know about that accident that happened to me--not for anything!"

XXI

OFF FOR THE FAIR

It seemed to Henrietta Hen that the time for the fair would never come.

She had begun to feel somewhat uneasy, because she had talked so much about visiting the fair with her children that it would be very awkward if she didn't go. So she was delighted one day by the noise of hammering and sawing that came from the workbench at the end of the wagon-shed. A merry noise it was, to Henrietta's ears; for she guessed at once what was happening. Farmer Green and his son were building a pen in which she and her family were to ride to the fair!

The news spread like fire in sun-dried gra.s.s. Henrietta Hen took pains that it should. She told everybody she saw that she expected to leave at any moment. And she began to say good-by to all her friends.

Since Henrietta didn't start for the fair that day, before nightfall she had bade every one farewell at least a dozen times. And when, the following dawn, Henrietta started the day not by saying "Good morning!"

but by bidding her neighbors "Good-by!" once more, they began to think her a bit tiresome.

"What! Haven't you gone yet?" they asked her.

"No! But I expect to leave at any moment," Henrietta told them. She was so excited that she couldn't eat her breakfast. But her chicks had no such trouble. And perhaps it was just as well that Henrietta Hen had her hands full looking after them and trying to keep them all under her eye, and spick-and-span for the journey. Otherwise she would have been in more of a flutter than she was.

While Henrietta had an eye on her children, she tried to keep the other on the barn. And after what seemed to her hours of watching and waiting, she saw Johnnie Green lead the old horse Ebenezer out of the door, with his harness on. Henrietta promptly forgot her stately manners. She ran squalling across the farmyard and called to Ebenezer, "Where are you going?"

"I understand that I'm going to the fair," he told her, as Johnnie Green backed him between the thills of a wagon. "Once I would have been hitched to a light buggy, with a sulky tied behind it. But now I've got to take you and your family in this rattlety old contraption."

Henrietta Hen didn't wait to hear any more. She turned and hurried back, to gather her youngsters and bid everybody another farewell.

Amid a great clucking and squawking, Johnnie Green and his father put Henrietta and her chicks into the pen and placed it in the back of the wagon.

"We're all ready!" Henrietta cried to Ebenezer. The old horse didn't even turn his head, for he could see backwards as well as forwards, because he wore no blinders. He made no direct reply to Henrietta, though he gave a sort of grunt, as if the whole affair did not please him. He knew that it was a long distance to the fairgrounds and the road was hilly.

"_She_ thinks it a lark," he said to the dog Spot, who hung about as if he were waiting for something. "She's lucky, for she won't have to go on her own legs, for miles and miles."

"That's just what I intend to do," Spot informed him. "They don't mean to take me. But I'm going to follow you, right under the wagon, where Johnnie Green and his father can't see me."

So they started off. And they had scarcely pa.s.sed through the gate when Henrietta began to clamor in her shrillest tones. But n.o.body paid any heed to her. The wagon clattered off down the road. And old dog Spot smiled to himself as he trotted along beneath it.

"Henrietta just remembered that she forgot to put on her best ap.r.o.n," he chuckled.