appier than they had for
many days. When supper-time came, the Dorking Hen snatched the biggest
pieces of food, and the others chased her from corner to corner in quite
the old way. Every scrap was eaten, and nobody laughed when the Shanghai
Cock said that the fine weather had given him a better appetite. It was
really a dark and chilly day, but they had stopped thinking how much
better off they would be if they only lived somewhere else. As soon as
they stopped thinking that, they could see how well they were cared for
at home. And so, although nobody had really looked at the sky or thought
about the weather, everybody had a feeling that the sun must have been
shining.

Perhaps the Guinea Cock and the other Guinea Hen were the happiest of
all, for they had not known what to do or say when the bright-legged one
talked about her old home. It all seemed like a joke now, yet she never
liked the Off Ox after that day. The other fowls were as nice to her as
ever, for they knew it was a sad thing to be so discontented, and they
knew, also, that if they had not been foolish enough to let her, she
could never have made them unhappy.

THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES

It was a clear, cold winter morning, and the Cattle stood in the
barnyard where the great yellow straw-stacks were. They had nibbled away
at the lower part of these stacks until there was a sheltered place
underneath. The Calves liked to stand on the sunshiny side with an
over-hanging ledge of straw above their heads. The wind did not strike
them here, and they could reach up and pull out wisps to eat when they
had nothing else to do. Not that they were so fond of eating straw, but
it was fun to pull it out. There was, however, usually something else to
be done, for there was always their cud to chew.

Among all the farmyard people, there were none more particular about
their food. They might eat in a hurry when time was short, or when the
grass was fresh and green, but after they had swallowed it and filled
the first of their four stomachs with partly chewed food, they would
find some quiet and comfortable place where they could stand or lie
easily and finish their eating. To do this, they had to bring the partly
chewed food from the first stomach to the mouth again. They called this
"unswallowing it," although they should have said "regurgitating."

After the food was back in their mouths again, it was spoken of as their
cud, and the stout muscles in th