Here is part II of the little red hen's story:
A dry spell kept the rain away from the little red hen's wheat for a week. The little red hen was worried. If the plants didn't get some water soon, the tender stalks would wither and die.
The only thing to do was bring water to the plants. She went looking for her friends. She found them on top of the hay pile. The hen looked up and said, "The summer heat is too strong for the wheat. Who will help me water the garden?"
The dog, the cat, and the duck looked at her. "We're busy writing a song and can't be bothered now," growled the dog. "Didn't you hear me playing my banjo?"
"I'll just water it myself," she said. The little red hen took her watering pail to the garden. Her chicks came to keep her company. The hen pretended to be a thundercloud and tried to sprinkle them with water. Before long, the whole garden had been watered.
The summer sun was very good, and the wheat grew fast. The little red hen and her chicks visited the garden every day. They lovingly tended to the wheat, and it grew strong and hardy. There was going to be a bumper crop!
Soon it was fall and the wheat turned golden brown. The little red hen knew what that meant. She found her friends playing cards under the farmer's wagon. The hen knelt down and said, "Who will help me harvest the wheat?"
The dog, the cat, and the duck kept their eyes on their cards. "Not us!" they mumbled. "Can't you see we're busy?"
The hen stood up and fixed her apron. "I'll harvest it myself," she said. The little red hen took her cutting tools to the garden. This time the five chicks were waiting for her. The family cut the wheat and tied it into bundles. They sang songs, and soon the hard work was done.
Even though she had already spent a great deal of time and energy on the garden, the little red hen knew the work was not finished. She often told her chicks that if a job was worth doing, it was worth doing well.
The little red hen went looking for her friends. She found them sitting by the road. "I need to have the wheat ground into flour," she said. "Who will help me carry it to the miller?"
The dog, the cat, and the duck looked way down the road. The miller was located several miles away. "Not us!" the trio said together. "It's too far for us to walk."
Once again, the little red hen would have to do it herself. She and her chicks left right away. They had a long journey ahead of them, and the chicks moved slowly.
The trip seemed to go much faster when they pretended to be hobos traveling with their knapsacks across the country.
How will the little red hen's story end? Find out on the next page.
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