“Quick,” she whispered to
the Mouse, “run as fast as you
can and bring back a stone
just as large as yourself.”

Out scampered the Mouse,
and soon came back, dragging
the stone after him.

“Push it in here,” said
the little Red Hen, and he
pushed it in in a twinkling.

Then the little Red Hen
snipped away the hole, till
it was large enough for the
Cock to get through.

“Quick,” she said, “run
and get a stone as big as
yourself.”

Out flew the Cock, and
soon came back quite out
of breath, with a big stone,
which he pushed into the
sack too.

Then the little Red Hen
popped out,

got a stone as big as
herself, and pushed it in.

Next she put on her thimble,
took out her needle and thread,
and sewed up the hole as
quickly as ever she could.

When it was done, the
Cock and the Mouse and
the little Red Hen ran home
very fast, shut the door

after them, drew the bolts,
shut the shutters, and drew
down the blinds and felt
quite safe.

The bad Fox lay fast asleep
under the tree for some time,
but at last he woke up.

“Dear, dear,” he said, rubbing
his eyes and then looking at
the long shadows on the grass,
“how late it is getting. I must
hurry home.”

So the bad Fox went
grumbling and groaning
down the hill

till he came to the
stream.

Splash! In went one foot.
Splash! In went the other,
but the stones in the sack
were so heavy that at the
very next step down tumbled
Mr. Fox into a deep pool.

And then the fishes carried
him off to their fairy caves
and kept him a prisoner there,
so he was never seen again.

And the four greedy
little foxes had to go
to bed without any
supper.

But the Cock and the
Mouse never grumbled
again. They lit the fire,
filled the kettle, laid the
breakfast, and did all the
work, while the good little
Red Hen had a holiday, and
sat resting in the big arm-chair.

No foxes ever troubled
them again, and for all I
know they are still living
happily in the little house
with the green door and
green shutters, which stands
on the hill.