that this farm
is a wretched place."

"What do they do?" asked the Nigh Ox, who always enjoyed hearing the
Bantam Hen talk.

"Do?" said she, shaking her dainty little head. "They don't do much of
anything. That is what is the matter, and the young fowls are the worst
of all. You know how it used to be at feeding time? We all fluttered and
squabbled for the first chance at the food. Some Hen got the biggest
piece, and then the rest would chase her from one corner to another, and
not give her a chance to break and swallow any of it until she would
share with them. It was great fun, and we never left a scrap uneaten.
Now, what do you think?"

"Can't imagine," exclaimed the Oxen in one breath.

"Well, they all stand around on one foot for a while, and I am the only
one eating. Then somebody says, 'I wonder if this is any better than
the last we had.' Another will groan, 'Oh, is it time to eat again?' or,
'Suppose I must eat something to keep up my strength.' Then I hear the
bright-legged Guinea Hen say, 'Ca-mac! Ca-mac! This is all so different,
so very different from what I have been used to.' The Cock and the other
Hen of that family are nice enough if you only get them away from her."

"What nonsense!" exclaimed the Oxen together, and they spoke quite
sharply for them.

"I wish," said the Bantam Hen very slowly, and as though she meant every
word--"I wish the bright-legged one were back where it was 'so
different.' Perhaps then my friends would begin to act like themselves."

"Where did she come from?" asked the Off Ox. "It seems to me that I saw
a bright-legged Guinea Hen somewhere not long ago." He thought very
hard, so hard that he swallowed his cud without knowing he did so.

"Wasn't it at the place where we took that load of stone the other day?"
asked the Nigh Ox, trying to help his brother. He knew how disagreeable
it is not to be able to recall anything of that sort.

"It was," cried the Off Ox; "and a very poor farm it is. It was the same
Hen too. Talk about its being different! I should say it was different
from this place, but there are a good many ways of being different.
Um-hum! I think I will talk with the discontented Guinea Hen before
long, and I want you to see that the other fowls are listening when I
do."

Although he would say nothing more, the Bantam Hen saw from the look in
his eyes that he meant to stop the Guinea Hen's complaining, so she went
away feeling happier. Then the Off Ox uns