Old Ebenezer, the horse, told her to be sure to see the races.

"They're the best part of a fair," he said. "In my younger days I used to
take part in them." And then he added, "There's nothing else at a fair
that's worth looking at."

"What about the poultry show?" Henrietta Hen asked him. She didn't know
what poultry shows were; but she had heard Farmer Green mention them.

"I never paid any attention to the poultry exhibit," the horse Ebenezer
replied. "I never took part in that. I suppose it might interest you,
however."

Henrietta Hen smiled a knowing sort of smile. And she remarked to Polly
Plymouth Rock, who stood near her, that she didn't believe the old horse
knew a race from a poultry show. "If he ever went to a fair, I dare say
he was hitched outside the fence," she sniffed.

Polly Plymouth Rock cackled with amusement. And she said something that
displeased Henrietta Hen exceedingly.

"Are you going to take that duckling that you hatched out?" she asked.

"Certainly not!" Henrietta snapped. "Please--Miss Plymouth Rock--never
mention him again! I'm going to the fair, among strangers. And I
shouldn't care to have them know about that accident that happened to
me--not for anything!"