Blacky’s eyes twinkled, but he took care that Reddy should not see them.  “Farmer Brown’s boy is different from some folks I know,” said he.

“How’s that?” demanded Reddy Fox.

“Why,” replied Blacky, “there is a certain farmyard I know of where the hens are not kept shut up at all in the daytime, but run around where they please.  I see them every day when I am flying over.  They certainly are fine-looking hens.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen fatter ones.  Some of them are so fat they can hardly run.”

As Reddy Fox listened, a look of eagerness crept into his eyes, and his mouth began to water.  He just couldn’t help it.  “Where did you say those hens are?” he asked, trying to speak carelessly.

“I didn’t say,” replied Blacky, turning his head aside to hide a grin.  “It is a long way from here, Reddy, so I don’t believe you would really be interested.”

“That all depends,” replied Reddy.  “I would go a long way if it were worth while.  I don’t suppose you noticed if there were any dogs about where those hens are?”

Blacky pretended not to hear this.  “I’ve often thought,” said he, “of you and Mrs. Reddy as I have looked down at those fat hens.  It is too bad that they are so far away.”

CHAPTER XXVIII

REDDY FOX DREAMS OF CHICKENS

    It’s a poor watch-dog who sleeps with both eyes closed.

    Bowser the Hound.

Reddy Fox watched Blacky the Crow grow smaller and smaller until he was just a black speck in the distance.  Finally he disappeared.  Reddy looked very thoughtful.  He looked that way because he was thoughtful.  In fact, Reddy was doing a lot of hard thinking.  He was thinking about those chickens Blacky had told him of.  The more he thought of them, the hungrier he grew.  You see, Reddy had been having rather a hard time to get enough to eat.

“Yes, Sir,” said Reddy to himself, “I would go a long, long distance to get a good plump hen.  I wish I knew just where that farm is that that black rascal talked about.  I wonder if he has gone that way now.  If I were sure that he has, I would make a little journey in that direction myself.  But I’m not sure.  That black rascal flies all over the country.  That farm may lie in the direction he has gone now, and it may be in quite the opposite direction.  Somehow I’ve got to find out in just which direction it is.”

Reddy yawned, for he had been out all night, and he was sleepy.  He decided that the best thing he could do would be to get a good rest.  One must always be fit if one is to get on in this life.  The harder one must work, the more fit one should keep, and a proper amount of sleep is one of the most necessary things in keeping fit.  So Reddy curled up to sleep.

Hardly had his eyes closed when he began to dream.  You see, he had been thinking so hard about those fat hens, and he was so hungry for one of them, that right away he began to dream of fat hens.  It was a beautiful dream.  At least, it was a beautiful dream to Reddy.  Fat hens were all about him.  They were so fat that they could hardly walk.  Not only were they fat, but they seemed to think that their one object in life was to fill the stomachs of hungry foxes, for they just stood about waiting to be caught.