What shall I do ? ' As poor Mrs. Cluck sighed and sobbed , her unhappy child went scuffling about on her back , gasping and rolling up her eyes in great anguish , for she had eaten too much of the fatal salt , and there was no help for her . When all was over they buried the dead chicken under a currant bush , covered the little grave with chickweed , and the bereaved parent wore a black string round her leg for a month . Blot , ` the last of that bright band , ' needed no mourning for she was as black as a crow . This was the reason why her mother never had loved her as much as she did the others , who were all white , gray , or yellow . Poor little Blot had been much neglected by every one ; but now her lonely mamma discovered how good and affectionate a chicken she was , for Blot was a great comfort to her , never running away or disobeying in any way , but always close to her side , ready to creep under her wing , or bring her a plump bug when the poor biddy 's appetite failed her . They were very happy together till Thanksgiving drew near , when a dreadful pestilence seemed to sweep through the farm-yard ; for turkeys , hens , ducks , and geese fell a prey to it , and were seen by their surviving relatives featherless , pale , and stiff , borne away to some unknown place whence no fowl returned . Blot was waked one night by a great cackling and fluttering in the hen-house , and peeping down from her perch saw a great hand glide along the roost , clutch her beloved mother by the leg , and pull her off , screaming dolefully , ` Good-by , good-by , my darling child ! ' Aunt Cockletop pecked and croaked fiercely ; but , tough as she was , the old biddy did not escape , and many another amiable hen and gallant cockadoodle fell a victim to that mysterious hand . In the morning few remained , and Blot felt that she was a forlorn orphan , a thought which caused her to sit with her head under her wing for several hours , brooding over her sad lot , and longing to join her family in some safe and happy land , where fowls live in peace . She had her wish very soon , for one day , when the first snowflakes began to flutter out of the cold gray sky , Blot saw a little kitten mewing pitifully as it sat under the fence . ` What is the matter , dear ? ' asked kind Blot . ` I 'm lost , and I ca n't find my way home , ' answered the kitten , shivering with cold . ' I live at the red farm-house over the hill , only I do n't know which road to take . ' ` I 'll show you . Come at once , for night is coming on , and the snow will soon be too deep for us , ' said Blot . So away they went , as fast as their small legs could carry them ; but it was a long way , and dusk came on before the red farm-house appeared . ` Now I 'm safe ; thank you very much . Wo n't you come in , and stay all night ?
My mother will be glad to see you , ' said the kit rubbing her soft white face against XXXXX 's little black breast .
Blot chickweed cockadoodle farm-yard fowls hen-house hours morning night pestilence