The Little Red Hen

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The Little Red Hen

Once there was a little red hen. One day, she found some grains of
wheat.
The little red hen asked her friends, Who will help me plant this
wheat?
Not I, said the cat.
Not I, said the dog.
Not I, said the bird.
Then I will plant the wheat myself, said the little red hen. And she
did.
The little red hen watched the wheat grow. Soon it was tall and golden.
She asked her friend, Who will help me cut this wheat?
Not I, said the cat.
Not I, said the dog.
Not I, said the bird.
Then I will cut the wheat myself, said the little red hen. And she did.
It was time to make the wheat into flour. Who will help me take this
wheat to the miller? asked the little red hen.
Not I, said the cat.
Not I, said the dog.

Not I, said the bird.


Then I will take it to the miller myself, said the little red hen. And
she did.
The miller ground the wheat.
He put the flour in a sack for the little red hen.
Now it was time to make the flour into bread.
Who will help me bake the bread? asked the little red hen.
Not I, said the cat.
Not I, said the dog.
Not I, said the bird.
Then I will bake the bread myself, said the little red hen. And she
did.
When the bread was baked, the little red hen took it out of the oven.
It looked delicious.
Who will help me eat this bread? she asked.
I willI will ! said the cat.
I willI will ! said the dog.
I willI will ! said the bird.
No, you will not, said the little red hen.
I will eat this bread myself.
And she did.

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