<h2><SPAN name="VII" id="VII"></SPAN>VII</h2>
<h2>How the Speckled Hen Got<br/> Her Speckles</h2>
<div class="figleft"><ANTIMG src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width-obs="50" height-obs="50" /></div>
<p>nce upon a time, ages and ages ago, there was a little white hen. One
day she was busily engaged in scratching the soil to find worms and
insects for her breakfast. As she worked she sang over and over again
her little crooning song, "Quirrichi, quirrichi, quirrichi." Suddenly
she noticed a tiny piece of paper lying on the ground. "Quirrichi,
quirrichi, what luck!" she said to herself. "This must be a letter.
One time when the king, the great ruler of our country, held his court
in the meadow close by, many people brought him letters and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></SPAN></span> laid them
at his feet. Now I, too, even I, the little white hen, have a letter.
I am going to carry my letter to the king."</p>
<p>The next morning the little white hen started bravely out on her long
journey. She carried the letter very carefully in her little brown
basket. It was a long distance to the royal palace where the king
lived. The little white hen had never been so far from home in all her
life.</p>
<p>After a while she met a friendly fox. Foxes and little white hens are
not usually very good friends, you know, but this fox was a friend of
the little white hen. Once upon a time she had helped the fox to
escape from a trap and the fox had never forgotten her kindness to
him.</p>
<p>"O, little white hen, where are you going?" asked the fox.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Quirrichi, quirrichi," replied the little white hen, "I am going to
the royal palace to carry a letter to the king."</p>
<p>"Indeed, little white hen," said the fox, "I should like to go with
you. Give me your permission to accompany you on your journey."</p>
<p>"I shall be glad to have you go with me," said the little white hen.
"It is a very long journey to the royal palace where the king lives.
Wouldn't you like me to carry you in my little brown basket?"</p>
<p>The fox climbed into the little brown basket. After the little white
hen had gone on for some distance farther she met a river. Once upon a
time the little white hen had done the river a kindness. He had, with
great difficulty, thrown some<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></SPAN></span> ugly worms upon the bank and he was
afraid they would crawl back in again. The little white hen had eaten
them for him. Always after that the river had been her friend.</p>
<p>"O, little white hen, where are you going?" the river called out as
soon as he saw her.</p>
<p>"Quirrichi, quirrichi, I am going to the royal palace to carry a
letter to the king," replied the little white hen.</p>
<p>"O, little white hen, may I go with you?" asked the river.</p>
<p>The little white hen told the river that he might go with her and
asked him to ride in the little brown basket. So the river climbed
into the little brown basket.</p>
<p>After the little white hen had journeyed along for a time she came to
a fire. Once<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></SPAN></span> upon a time, when the fire had been dying the little
white 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.</p>
<p>"O, little white hen, where are you going?" the fire asked.</p>
<p>"Quirrichi, quirrichi, I am going to the royal palace to carry a
letter to the king," replied the little white hen.</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></SPAN></span> 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.</p>
<p>The little white hen journeyed on and on, and finally she arrived at
the royal palace.</p>
<p>"Who are you and what are you carrying in your little brown basket?"
asked the royal doorkeeper when he opened the door.</p>
<p>"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.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>"Who are you and what is your business?" asked the king in his big,
deep, kingly voice.</p>
<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></SPAN></span>
tiny holes in it where the fire had sat after he had turned himself
into hot ashes.</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"Here," and he turned to one of the attendants standing by the throne,
"take this stupid, little white hen and throw her out into the royal
poultry yard. I think we will have her for dinner to-morrow."</p>
<p>The little white hen was roughly seized by the tallest royal attendant
and carried down the back stairs, through the back gate, out into the
royal poultry yard. She still clung to the little brown basket which<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></SPAN></span>
she had brought with her on her long journey to the royal palace and
through all the sad experiences she had met there.</p>
<p>When the little white hen reached the royal poultry yard all the royal
fowls flew at her. Some plucked at her rumpled white feathers. Others
tried to pick out her eyes. One pulled off the cover of the little
brown basket.</p>
<p>Out sprang the fox from the little brown basket and in the twinkling
of an eye he fell upon the fowls of the royal poultry yard. Not a
single fowl was left alive.</p>
<p>There was such a great commotion that the king, the queen, the royal
attendants and all the royal servants of the palace came rushing out
to see what was the matter. The fox had already taken to his heels and
the little white hen lost no time in running<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></SPAN></span> away too. She did not,
however, forget to take her little brown basket with her.</p>
<p>The royal household all ran after her in swift pursuit. They had
almost caught her when the river suddenly sprang out of the little
brown basket and flowed between the little white hen and her royal
pursuers. They couldn't get across without canoes.</p>
<p>While they were getting the canoes and climbing into them the little
white hen had time to run a long way. She had almost reached a thick
forest where she could easily hide herself when the royal pursuers
again drew near. Then the fire which had changed itself into hot ashes
jumped out of the little brown basket. It immediately became dark, so
dark that the royal household could not even see each other's faces
and, of course, they could not see in which<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></SPAN></span> direction the little
white hen was running. There was nothing for them to do but to return
to the royal palace and live on beef and mutton.</p>
<p>The fire which had turned itself into ashes sprang out of the little
brown basket so suddenly that it scattered ashes all over the little
white hen. From that day she was always speckled where the ashes fell
upon her. The chickens of the little white hen (who was now a little
speckled hen) were all speckled too. So were their chickens and their
chickens and their chickens' chickens, even down to this very day.
Whenever you see a speckled hen you may know that she is descended
from the little white hen who carried a letter to the king, and who,
in her adventures, became the first speckled hen.</p>
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<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/image_008.jpg" width-obs="525" height-obs="339" alt="HOW THE MONKEY BECAME A TRICKSTER" /></div>
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