But this was not all. Red Hen took a big stone and put it into the bag. Then she took out her needle and thread.

Stitch, stitch, stitch! And the hole was sewed up again.

Hop, skip, flutter! Away went the small, red Hen.

She was soon in her snug little house with her door locked tight. Then she laughed as she sang:

"Awake, old Fox,

Go back to your den,

Pray, open your bag,

You've a fine stone hen."

IV

The old Fox soon awoke. He took

bag and went to his den in the woods.

66

'Mother, mother," he called.

the pot all boiling?"

up his

"Have you

"That I have," said she. "Have you the small, red Hen?"

"That I have," said he. "Take off the lid. I'll untie the bag and shake the small, red Hen into the pot."

Then the mother Fox lifted the lid. They shook the bag over the pot and . . . . Splash! Splash!

"Was that the small, red Hen that fell into the pot?" Those Foxes never waited to see. They ran out of their den as fast as they could. They ran as if they would never stop. Perhaps they never did stop. Perhaps they are

still running.

After that the small, red Hen lived safe in her snug, little house. And she always liked to keep her needle and thread, her scissors and her key in her pocket. And she always looked behind the door before she locked it. But she never saw the sly, old Fox again.

It was the month of May. There was a branch of beautiful blossoms on an old apple tree.

One day a fair princess came driving by. When she saw the blossoms, she said: "Oh, how beautiful! I must have some of them."

So the coachman stopped the horses and the branch was cut for her. When they reached

the castle, the princess carried the apple branch

into her room.

It was a lovely room. The princess put the branch into a tall and very costly silver

vase. She placed the vase in one of the windows.

"Oh, how beautiful!" she said, as she looked at the blossoms. And, "How beautiful!" said all who saw it.

Soon the apple branch grew very proud. It looked out towards the garden and fields where it saw a great many flowers growing.

"There is a great difference between the plain flowers and myself," it said. "How unhappy they must be! No one would care to pick those common, yellow dandelions. But I suppose there must be some plain flowers."

A sunbeam kissed the yellow dandelions in the field, then kissed the apple branch and said,

"Is there such a difference between flowers? What is the plant you think so ugly?"

"The dandelion," answered the apple branch. "The princess would not think of picking one of them. When they go to seed they look like wool. But then, they are only weeds. How glad I am that I am not a weed!"

II

When the wind whispered to the dandelions what the apple branch had said, they pulled their little green sunbonnets down over their faces. They wondered if they really were so ugly.

One little dandelion peeped out at its dear old white-haired grandmother and said, "Surely no one could be more beautiful than she."

While the dandelions were feeling so sad, a group of children came across the fields.

When they saw the host of yellow dandelions they laughed and clapped their hands for joy. They picked them. They made chains