Always, before, Henrietta had seized every chance to parade before the
public. Now she seemed to crave privacy.

What was the matter? To tell the truth, Henrietta Hen herself did not
know the answer to that question. That is to say, she did not know _why_
a certain thing was so. She only knew that a great misfortune had
befallen her. And she dreaded to tell anybody about it.

To be sure, there was old Whitey--a hen who had lived on the farm longer
than any other. Most members of the flock often asked her advice. Even
Henrietta herself had done that. But this difficulty was something she
didn't want to mention to a neighbor. If there were only somebody outside
the flock to whom she could go for help! But she knew of no one.

Then Henrietta happened to hear of Aunt Polly Woodchuck. The Muley Cow,
who went to the pasture every day, mentioned Aunt Polly's name to
Henrietta. According to the Muley Cow, Aunt Polly Woodchuck was an herb
doctor--and a good one, too. No matter what might be troubling a person,
Aunt Polly was sure to have something right in her basket to cure it.

"I'd like to see her," Henrietta Hen had said. "But I can't go way up in
the pasture, under the hill."

"Could you go to the end of the lane?" the Muley Cow inquired.

"Yes!"

"Then I'll ask Aunt Polly Woodchuck to meet you by the bars to-morrow
morning," the Muley Cow promised.