r keep warm with no feathers is more than I know."

Henrietta Hen couldn't understand how Aunt Polly managed to stay so calm.
Henrietta had expected her to throw up her hands and say something like
"Sakes alive!" or "Mercy on us!" But the old lady did nothing of the
sort.

She set her basket down on the ground; and pushing her spectacles forward
to the end of her nose, she leaned over and looked closely at Henrietta
Hen. Aunt Polly's gaze travelled over Henrietta from head to foot and
then back again. And she took hold of one of Henrietta's feathers and
gave it a gentle twitch.

"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 t