One fine morning the little red hen said: "Who'll get up and light the fire?"
"I won't," said the cat.
"And I won't," said the rat.
"I'll do it myself," said the little red hen. So she got up and lit the fire. Then she said: "Who'll get up and sweep out the room?"
"I won't," &c.
Then she said: "Who'll get up and get the breakfast?"
"I won't," &c. Then she said: "Who'll get up and eat the breakfast?"
"I will!" said the cat.
"And I will!" said the rat.
"No, I'll do it myself," said the little red hen. But she let them have their breakfast. Then she said: "Who'll clear away the things?"
"I won't," &c.
But while she was clearing away the things, whom should she see coming up the street but the fox. And the cat ran into its basket, and the rat into its hole, and the little red hen flew up on her perch.
In came the fox. "Good day to you, little red hen," said he. "Come down and scratch my back." So she flew down on his back and began to scratch it. And when she came near his head, he put up his paw, and brushed her off and caught her; and he put her in his bag, and away with him.
Now it was a hot day, and he soon got tired; so he lay down under the shadow of a church, and went to sleep. And the little red hen took a scissors and a needle and thread out from under her wing, and cut a hole in the bag. And out she got, and put a big stone into the bag, and sewed up the hole; and away with her home to the cat and the rat.
After a bit the fox woke up and put his bag on his back, and started off home again. "Much good that rest's done me!" said he. "Why, she feels heavier now than when I lay down!" However, he got home at last, and bade his old mother make ready the family glass pot, because he had the little red hen in his bag.
So she got out the family glass pot and filled it and put it on the fire; and it was so big that it filled up the opening of the
