The Little Red Hen Interactive Read Aloud

A Little Red Hen lived in a barnyard. She spent almost all of her time walking about the undiscriminating in her picketty-pecketty style, scratching everywhere for worms.

S he dearly loved fat, delicious worms and felt they were absolutely necessary to the health of her children. As oft as she found a worm she would call:

"Chuck-chuck-chuck!" to her chickies.

W hen they were gathered about her, she would distribute choice morsels of her tid-flake. A busy petty body was she!

A true cat usually napped lazily in the barn door, non even bothering herself to scare the rat who ran here and there every bit he pleased. And as for the hog who lived in the sty – he did not intendance what happened so long as he could eat and abound fat.

O ne day the Fiddling Red Hen found a Seed. It was a Wheat Seed, merely the Little Red Hen was so accustomed to bugs and worms that she supposed this to be some new and perhaps very delicious kind of meat. She bit it gently and found that information technology resembled a worm in no mode whatsoever every bit to taste although because it was long and slender, a Little Red Hen might hands be fooled by its appearance.

C arrying information technology almost, she fabricated many inquiries as to what information technology might be. She establish it was a Wheat Seed and that, if planted, information technology would grow upwardly and when ripe information technology could be fabricated into flour and so into breadstuff.

When she discovered that, she knew it ought to be planted. She was and so busy hunting food for herself and her family that, naturally, she thought she ought not to have time to plant it.

Southward o she idea of the Sus scrofa - upon whom time must hang heavily and of the Cat who had nothing to exercise, and of the great fat Rat with his idle hours, and she chosen loudly:

"Who volition constitute the Seed?"

But the Pig said, "Not I,"
and the Cat said, "Non I,"
and the Rat said, "Non I."

"Well, then," said the Lilliputian Red Hen, "I will."

And she did.

So she went on with her daily duties through the long summer days, scratching for worms and feeding her chicks, while
the Grunter grew fatty,
and the Cat grew fat,
and the Rat grew fat,
and the Wheat grew tall and ready for harvest.

S o ane day the Little Red Hen chanced to notice how big the Wheat was and that the grain was ripe, so she ran well-nigh calling briskly: "Who volition cutting the Wheat?"

The Grunter said, "Not I,"
the Cat said, "Not I,"
and the Rat said, "Non I."

"Well, then," said the Little Ruby-red Hen, "I will." And she did.

S he got the sickle from among the farmer's tools in the befouled and proceeded to cutting off all of the large establish of Wheat.

On the ground lay the nicely cut Wheat, ready to be gathered and threshed, simply the newest and yellowest and downiest of Mrs. Hen'southward chicks set upwardly a "peep-peep-peeping" in their most vigorous mode, proclaiming to the earth at big, simply most particularly to their female parent, that she was neglecting them.

P oor Niggling Reddish Hen! She felt quite bewildered and hardly knew where to turn.

Her attention was sorely divided between her duty to her children and her duty to the Wheat, for which she felt responsible.

And then, again, in a very hopeful tone, she called out, "Who will thresh the Wheat?"

But the Pig, with a grunt, said, "Not I," and the Cat, with a meow, said, "Not I," and the Rat, with a squeak, said, "Non I."

So the Little Reddish Hen, looking, it must be admitted, rather discouraged, said, "Well, I will, then."

And she did.

Of course, she had to feed her babies starting time, though, and when she had gotten them all to slumber for their afternoon nap, she went out and threshed the Wheat. Then she called out: "Who will conduct the Wheat to the manufacturing plant to be footing?"

Turning their backs with snippy glee, that Pig said, "Non I," and that Cat said, "Not I," and that Rat said, "Not I."

S o the skilful Fiddling Red Hen could do nothing but say, "I will then." And she did.

Conveying the sack of Wheat, she trudged off to the distant mill. There she ordered the Wheat ground into beautiful white flour. When the miller brought her the flour she walked slowly back all the way to her own barnyard in her ain picketty-pecketty fashion.

S he even managed, in spite of her load, to grab a nice juicy worm now and so and had one left for the babies when she reached them. Those cunning little fluff-balls were and so glad to encounter their mother. For the

first time, they really appreciated her.

Later on this really strenuous day Mrs. Hen retired to her slumbers earlier than usual - indeed, before the colors came into the sky to herald the setting of the lord's day, her usual bedtime hour.

She would take liked to sleep late in the morning, but her chicks, joining in the morning chorus of the hen 1000, drove abroad all hopes of such a luxury.

Even equally she sleepily half opened one middle, the thought came to her that to-day that Wheat must, somehow, be made into bread.

She was non in the habit of making bread, although, of class, anyone can make it if he or she follows the recipe with care, and she knew perfectly well that she could exercise it if necessary.

So later her children were fed and fabricated sweet and fresh for the twenty-four hours, she hunted up the Pig, the Cat and the Rat.

However confident that they would surely help her some day she sang out, "Who will brand the bread?"

A las for the Little Red Hen! Once more her hopes were dashed! For the Grunter said, "Not I,"

the Cat said, "Not I," and the Rat said, "Non I."

Southward o the Picayune Cherry-red Hen said one time more, "I will and so," and she did.

Feeling that she might have known all the time that she would have to exercise it all herself, she went and put on a fresh frock and spotless cook's cap. Get-go of all she set the dough, every bit was proper. When information technology was time she brought out the moulding board and the baking tins, moulded the bread, divided it into loaves, and put them into the oven to broil. All the while the True cat sat lazily past, giggling and chuckling.

And close at mitt the vain Rat powdered his nose and admired himself in a mirror. In the distance could be heard the long-drawn snores of the dozing Grunter.

A t concluding the great moment arrived. A succulent aroma was wafted upon the autumn breeze. Everywhere the barnyard citizens sniffed the air with delight.

The Red Hen ambled in her picketty-pecketty way toward the source of all this excitement.

A lthough she appeared to be perfectly calm, in reality she could just with difficulty restrain an impulse to dance and sing, for had she not done all the piece of work on this wonderful bread?

Small wonder that she was the well-nigh excited person in the barnyard!

South he did not know whether the bread would be fit to eat, simply - joy of joys! - when the lovely brown loaves came out of the oven, they were done to perfection.

And then, probably because she had acquired the addiction, the Red Hen called:

"Who will swallow the Bread?"

All the animals in the undiscriminating were watching hungrily and smacking their lips in apprehension, and

the Sus scrofa said, "I volition,"
the True cat said, "I will,"
the Rat said, "I will."

But the Little Red Hen said,

"No, y'all won't. I volition."

And she did.

---

⁠

childressaceir1992.blogspot.com

Source: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Little_Red_Hen

Share this post