Old Whitey—the most ancient hen in the flock—scrambled with some difficulty up to the top of the haymow in Farmer Green's barn. She could scarcely keep up with Henrietta Hen, whom she was following—by request. And when she arrived, breathless, at Henrietta's nest that proud and elegant creature turned a troubled face toward her.  
"See!" said Henrietta. "I've taken your advice and laid another egg. But it's nothing like the beautiful, big, white one. This last egg is much smaller; and it's brown."
Old Whitey nodded her head. "Well!" she said. "What's your difficulty?"
 
"Don't you think," said Henrietta, "that if Johnnie Green finds my nest he'll be sure to take both eggs?"
 
"No, I don't," was old Whitey's blunt answer.
 
"Then he'll be sure to take the big, white one," Henrietta Hen wailed¹.
 
"No, he won't," old Whitey told her. "If he does, I'll miss my guess."
 
Well, that was really too much for Henrietta Hen to believe.
 
"That boy will never take a little egg and leave a big one," she declared.
 
"You wait and see if he doesn't," old Whitey advised her.
 
So Henrietta waited. Though she had little faith in old Whitey's advice, Henrietta could think of nothing else to do. And the next morning, to her great surprise, when Johnnie Green climbed into the haymow and found her nest he took the small brown egg and put it in his hat. And he never touched the big, white egg at all. He didn't even pick it up and look at it!
 
Perched on a beam overhead Henrietta Hen watched him breathlessly. And as soon as he had gone she went

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