"Billie! Hurry! Hold that Wheat Sack from underneath! I can see it spilling!" the miller called out from the distant gristmill.
"Coming!" Billie, the miller’s child, hollered back and grabbed the bottom of the jute bag. A single Seed dropped to the ground.
It was an early morning for the Little Red Hen as she walked around the yard picking up worms. There were fewer bugs today.
Clucking and pecking, the Little Red Hen thought of her baby chicks. She had to feed them back at the hen yard. So, she wandered a little further.
She passed the Pretty Grey Cat snoozing on the porch rail. The Silly Brown Mouse scurried past her in a rush. And as the Little Red Hen came to the sty where the Sleepy Pink Pig laid sprawled out in the sun, she noticed a teeny-tiny something wiggling in the distance.
A worm, perhaps?