The Little Red Hen

The Little Red Hen was in the farmyard when she found a grain of wheat. "Who will help me plant this grain?" she asked.

"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Not I," said the Goose.

"Then I shall have to do it myself," said the Hen.

She planted the seed, and it began to grow, but it was very dry. "Who will help me water this grain?" asked the Hen.

"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Not I," said the Goose.

"Then I shall have to do it myself," said the Hen.

She watered the grain every day, but soon other plants were stealing the water. "Who will help me weed my grain?" asked the Hen.

"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Not I," said the Goose.

"Then I shall have to do it myself," said the Hen.

The Little Red Hen carefully weeded the plant so that it would grow up big and strong. When it was ripe, she asked "Who will help me pick this grain?"

"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Not I," said the Goose.

"Then I shall have to do it myself," said the Hen.

She picked the grain, but she was very tired, and did not want to walk all the way to the mill. "Who will help me grind this grain?" she asked.

"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Not I," said the Goose.

"Then I shall have to do it myself," said the Hen.

The Little Red Hen brought the grain to the mill, where it was ground, and then she returned home with the flour. "Who will help me cook this grain?" asked the Little Red Hen.

"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Not I," said the Goose.

"Then I shall have to do it myself," said the Hen.

She stirred and poured and mixed the flour, and made a lovely bread. She put it in the oven to bake, and the smell of the baking bread rose over the whole farmyard.

"Mmmmm," said the Cat, the Dog, and the Goose. They came to the Little Red Hen's door just as she was taking the bread out of the oven.

"I will help you eat this bread," said the Cat.

"I will help you eat the bread too," said the Dog.

"And so will I," said the Goose.

The Little Red Hen looked at them. "When it was time to plant, to water, to weed, to pick, to grind, and to cook," she said, "I had to do all of these things myself. Now it is time to eat, and I will do that by myself too."

And she did.

This appears to be another classic tale without a definitive author that I could find on a quick search. I've retold it here in my own words, since I've come across several versions and it doesn't seem to matter the exact manner in which it is told, although the repetitive refrain is fairly consistent across versions. I suppose that it could be classified, like the fable about the Grasshopper and the Ant, as a moral tale to instruct children about the rewards of hardwork. Personally, I've always envisioned the Hen as being secretly triumphant and vindictive as she gobbles up the bread with all of the other animals watching pitifully. But that's just me.

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