[Psidev-ms-cvs] on the roost would stir uneasily and pro

[Gloden G. <lat...@bi...>]

 lot of hard thinking. He was thinking about those chickens Blacky had
told him of. The more he thought of them, the hungrier he grew. You
see, Reddy
had been having rather a hard time to get enough to eat. "Yes,
Sir," said Reddy to himself, "I
would go a long, long distance to get a good plump hen. I wish I knew
just where that farm is that that black rascal talked about. I wonder
if he has gone that way now. If I were sure that he has, I would make a
little
journey in that direction myself. But I'm not sure. That black rascal
flies all over the country. That farm may lie in the direction he has
gone now, and it may be in quite the opposite direction. Somehow I've
got to find out in just which direction it is." Reddy yawned, for he
had been out all night, and he was sleepy. He decided
that the best thing he could do would be to get a good rest. One
must always be fit if one is to get on in this life. The harder one
must
work, the more fit one should keep, and a proper amount of sleep

is one of the most necessary things in keeping fit. So Reddy curled up
to sleep. Hardly
had his eyes closed when he began to dream.
You see, he had been thinking
so hard about those fat hens, and he was so hungry for one of them,

that right away he began to dream of
fat hens. It was a beautiful dream. At least, it was a beautiful dream
to Reddy. Fat hens were all about him. They were

so fat that they could hardly walk. Not only were they fat, but they
seemed to think that their one
object in life was to fill the stomachs of hungry foxes, for they just
stood about waiting to