hen had brought some dried grass. The grass had given the fire
new life and always after that he had been the friend of the little
white hen.

"O, little white hen, where are you going?" the fire asked.

"Quirrichi, quirrichi, I am going to the royal palace to carry a
letter to the king," replied the little white hen.

"O, little white hen, may I go with you?" asked the fire. "I have
never been to the royal palace and I have never had even a peep at the
king."

The little white hen told the fire that he might go with her and asked
him to climb into the little brown basket. By this time the little
brown basket was so full, that, try as they might, they couldn't make
room for the fire. At last they thought of a plan. The fire changed
himself into ashes and then there was room for him to get into the
basket.

The little white hen journeyed on and on, and finally she arrived at
the royal palace.

"Who are you and what are you carrying in your little brown basket?"
asked the royal doorkeeper when he opened the door.

"I am the little white hen and I am carrying a letter to the king,"
replied the little white hen. She didn't say a word about the fox and
the river and the fire which she had in her little brown basket. She
was so frightened before the great royal doorkeeper of the palace that
she could hardly find her voice at all.

The royal doorkeeper invited the little white hen to enter the palace
and he led her to the royal throne where the king was sitting. The
little white hen bowed very low before the king--so low, in fact, that
it mussed up all her feathers.

"Who are you and what is your business?" asked the king in his big,
deep, kingly voice.

"Quirrichi, quirrichi, I am the little white hen," replied the little
white hen in her low, frightened, little voice. "I have come to bring
my letter to your royal majesty." She handed the king the piece of
paper which had remained all this time at the bottom of the little
brown basket. There were marks of dirt upon it where the friendly
fox's feet had rested. It was damp where the river had lain. It had
tiny holes in it where the fire had sat after he had turned himself
into hot ashes.

"What do you mean by bringing me this dirty piece of paper?" shouted
the king in his biggest, deepest, gruffest voice. "I am highly
offended. I always knew that hens were stupid little creatures but you
are quite the stupidest little hen I ever saw in all my life."

"Here," a