L ITTLE Red Hen found a grain of wheat. "Who will plant this?" she asked. "Not I," said the cat. "Not I," said the goose. "Not I," said the rat. "Then I will," said Little Red Hen. So she buried the wheat in the ground. After a while it grew up yellow and ripe. "The wheat is ripe now," said Little Red Hen. "Who will cut and thresh it?" "Not I," said the cat. "Not I," said the goose. "Not I," said the rat. "Then I will," said Little Red Hen. So she cut it with her bill and threshed it with her wings. Then she asked, "Who will take this wheat to the mill?" "Not I," said the cat. "Not I," said the goose. "Not I," said the rat. "Then I will," said Little Red Hen. So she took the wheat to the mill, where it was ground. Then she carried the flour home. "Who will make me some bread with this flour?" she asked. "Not I," said the cat. "Not I," said the goose. "Not I," said the rat. "Then I will," said Little Red Hen. So she made and baked the bread. Then she said, "Now we shall see who will eat this bread." "We will," said cat, goose, and rat. "I am quite sure you would," said Little Red Hen, "if you could get it." Then she called her chicks, and they ate up all the bread. There was none left at all for the cat, or the goose, or the rat. clover-leaves |