etta Hen. "I don't care to be seen speaking to you, sir."
"Ha!" Mr. Crow exploded. "Don't you think I'm as good as you are?"
"No!" said Henrietta Hen. "No, I don't!"
Mr. Crow was all for arguing with her. He began to tell Henrietta many things about himself, how he had spent dozens of summers in Pleasant Valley, what a great traveller he was, how far he could fly in a day. There was no end to his boasting.
Yet Henrietta Hen never looked the least bit interested. Indeed, she began scratching for worms while he was talking. And that made the old fellow angrier than ever.
"Don't you dare eat another kernel of corn!" he thundered. "If you do, I'll have to tell Farmer Green."
"He feeds me corn every day--cracked corn!" said Henrietta.
"Well, I never!" cried Mr. Crow. "What's he thinking of, wasting good corn like that?"
"Really, I mustn't be seen talking with you," Henrietta Hen told Mr. Crow. "If you want to know the answer to your question, come over to the
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