The Golden Heu,

OLDEN HEN lived in Fairyland

with the Silver Peacock and the famous Blue Bird,

These two had been

whom every one has heard of. in the world, but the Golden Hen had never left home. She got tired of living in Fairyland all the days of her life, and one day she said to her friends:

"I too must go out into the world. I find it dull to waken in Fairyland, to eat in Fairyland, and to sleep in Fairyland. I must have a change."

"Take care," said the Silver Peacock; "I went into the world and I repented it."

“And you know," put in the Blue Bird, "that if you do go, you cannot come back for a year and a day.”

But the Golden Hen would not be advised. She flew away out of Fairyland, and flew and flew until she came. to the world at last. It was a long journey, and the Golden Hen felt very tired when she alighted upon a corn-stack. She was very hungry too and began to peck at the corn. Some hens from a neighbouring farm had been let out into the field, and the Golden Hen, who liked company, thought she would join them. After a while she flew down and pecked with the other hens, and as no one seemed to mind her, she went home with them in the evening. When the farmer's wife came out with her apron full of corn to feed the fowls, she saw this beautiful hen, and wondered where she came from; but she did not drive her away, for she thought, "She has got astray, but I shall keep her. She is a wonderful creature and shines like real gold." So the Golden Hen roosted with the other hens that night, and went out with them the next morning.

Fairy birds never lose their feathers in Fairyland, but when they leave it and choose to travel, they fare just like other birds. As the farmer's wife was looking for new-laid eggs the next morning, she saw three yellow feathers, that shone and glittered like gold, lying in the straw. She picked them up and found that they were gold indeed, and so fine and so she had never seen any to compare with it.

pure that

Now this

woman was a great miser. She threw down her eggs for fear the Golden Hen should escape; she ran after her, caught her, and began plucking her as fast as she could and as much as she dared without killing her outright. The Golden Hen screamed and struggled, but it did not help her a bit; the farmer's wife would not let her go till she was all torn and bleeding.

"Ah!" thought the Golden Hen, "I wish I had minded the advice of the Silver Peacock, for what is to become of me, if, as the Blue Bird says, I must remain a year and a day in a world where I have. already been used so ill."

After a while, however, the Golden Hen began to think that every one might not be so cruel to her as

D

the farmer's wife had been, and that she might fare better if she went farther. So whilst the other hens were pecking in the stubble, she slipped away into a little wood hard by and hid there; and at night, instead of going back to the farm, she went up to roost alone in a tree, where she remained nearly the whole of the next day. The farmer's wife came to seek for her in the morning, threw corn about and called her ever so coaxingly, but the Golden Hen was not to be caught again. She stayed safely hidden till her enemy had long been gone. Then she came down and pecked a little corn and flew up again on the least noise.

The farmer's wife came again to the wood the next day, and the Golden Hen up in her tree thought: "Ah! well, I shall be caught this time." But she need not have been so frightened. The woman only picked up the corn which she had scattered, and neither called the Golden Hen nor tried to find her, for on looking that morning at the feathers which she had plucked from her, she had found that three only, and they were not large ones, were gold, whilst the others were common yellow quills. When the Golden Hen sheds her feathers they are real gold, but when any one

robs her of them, they are just yellow feathers and no

more.

The corn being gone, the Golden Hen was nearly starved that day; she also felt rather dull, for she had always been used to company. "I cannot bear this life any longer," she thought, "I must eat and I must have society." She left the wood at once and went pecking on the way, until in the evening she came to a large farm, twice as large as the first. There were more hens than you could count in the yard of that farm, and the Golden Hen, peeping in at them through the bars of the wooden gate, thought to herself; "There are so many hens here, that if I can once get in amongst them no one will ever find me out." She waited till the henwife's back was turned, then slipped in unseen. The other hens, seeing how ill she was, were kind to her. They let her in amongst them, allowed her to feed and roost with them that night, and to go out with them the next morning.

For six days the Golden Hen remained on the farm, and no one save the other hens was the wiser for it; but on the morning of the seventh day, as the farmer watched the henwife counting the eggs, he overheard