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[Illustration: THE.LITTLE.BROWN.HEN.HEARS THE.SONG.OF.THE.NIGHTINGALE

By Jasmine Stone Van Dresser]

[Illustration: AND.WITH.THE.LENGTHENING. EVENING.SHADOWS.]

[Illustration]

[Illustration]




          The Little Brown Hen
          Hears the Song of the
          Nightingale
          & The Golden Harvest

          By Jasmine Stone Van Dresser

          Author of "How to Find Happyland"

          With an Introduction by Margaret Beecher White

          The Illustrations by William T. Van Dresser

          [Illustration: THE.LOUDEST.TALKERS.ARE.NOT.ALWAYS.WISEST..]

          Paul Elder and Company
          San Francisco and New York

_Copyright, 1908_ _by_ Paul Elder and Company




                      TO
             WILLIAM T. VAN DRESSER
            BUT FOR WHOM THE STORIES
          WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN WRITTEN
           THIS LITTLE BOOK IS LOVINGLY
                 DEDICATED BY THE
                    AUTHOR




FOREWORD.


It is the duty of all good, useful stories to give a message to their
readers. The two dainty stories contained in this little volume each
carries its message of truth. Pure, simple and wholesome in quality,
they cannot fail to refresh as well as instruct those who receive them.

In the _Golden Harvest_ the lesson of patience taught by the little
apple tree's experience will bear rich fruit I do not doubt, and the
wisdom of the little brown hen cannot help but teach us all to listen
for the nightingale's song of harmony in our own lives.

                                            MARGARET BEECHER WHITE.




The Little Brown Hen Hears the Song of the Nightingale

[Illustration]


A POMPOUS old gander who lived in a barn-yard thought himself wiser than
the rest of the creatures, and so decided to instruct them.

He called together all the fowls in the barn-yard, and the pigeons off
the barn-roof, and told them to listen to him.

They gathered around and listened very earnestly, for they thought they
would learn a great deal of wisdom.

"The first thing for you to learn," said the gander, "is to speak my
language. It is very silly for you to chatter as you do. Now we will all
say, 'honk!' one, two, three,--'honk!'"

The creatures all tried very hard to say "honk!" but the sounds they
made were so remarkable that I cannot write them, and none of them
sounded like "honk!"

The gander was very angry.

"How stupid you are!" he cried. "Now you all must practise till you
learn it. Do not let me hear a peep or cluck or a coo! You must all
'honk' when you have anything to say."

So they obediently tried to do as he said.

When the little brown hen laid an egg, instead of making the fact known
with her sharp little "cut--cut--cut-cut-ah-cut!" as a well-ordered hen
should do, she ran around the barn-yard trying to say, "honk! honk!"

But nobody heard her, and nobody came to look for the egg.

The guinea-fowls way down in the pasture ceased calling "la croik! la
croik!" and there was no way of finding where they had hid their nests.
In the afternoon, when their shrill cries should have warned the farmers
that it was going to rain, they were still honking, or trying to, so
the nicely dried hay got wet.

Next morning chanticleer, instead of rousing the place with his lusty
crow, made an effort at honking that could not be heard a stone's throw
away, and so the whole farm overslept.

All day there was a Babel of sounds in the barn-yard. The turkeys left
off gobbling and made a queer sound that they thought was "honk!" the
ducks left off quacking, the chicks left off peeping, and said nothing
at all, for "honk!" was too big a mouthful for them; and the soft
billing and cooing of the doves were turned into an ugly harsh sound.

Things were indeed getting into a dreadful state, and they grew worse,
instead of better.

The hens forgot to lay eggs, the doves became proud and pompous like
the gander, and as for the turkey gobblers, they kept the place in an
uproar, for they thought they could really honk! and they never ceased
from morning till night.

There's no telling what it all would have come to if there hadn't been
one in the barn-yard, with an ear that could hear something besides the
dreadful discords.

One night the little brown hen was roosting alone in the top of the
hen-house. All at once she was awakened by the sweetest song she had
ever heard.

She called to her chicks and to some of her companions to wake up and
listen; but they were sleepy and soon dozed off again, so the little
brown hen was left listening alone.

"I will ask the gander what this beautiful song means," she said. "He
knows everything."

So she awoke the gander and asked him who was singing the beautiful
song, and what it meant.

The gander said gruffly: "It is the nightingale. I do not know what her
song means. She should learn to honk!" And he tucked his head back under
his wing.

"Ah!" thought the little brown hen, "if learning the gander's language
does not help me to understand this beautiful song, I do not think it is
worth bothering with. I shall never try to say 'honk!' again."

So she went back to her roost and listened till the nightingale's song
ceased. Then she tucked her head under her little brown wing and went to
sleep, her little heart singing within her.

At daylight she awoke, and hopping down sought her companions, eager to
tell them the wonderful thing that was singing in her heart.

"This is a beautiful, simple world," she cried, "and I have learned a
very wonderful thing!"

But to her surprise, the creatures had no desire to hear what it was,
for they were all in a flurry getting ready for their next lesson in
honking.

"Indeed, you need not bother about honking," cried the little brown hen,
but nobody paid any attention to her.

So she called her chicks about her, and went her way, clucking merrily,
while they picked up bugs, and dared to peep once more when they found a
nice fat worm.

Meanwhile the class in honking made very little headway, for no sooner
were they settled than they began to wish they knew what wonderful thing
the little brown hen had to tell.

[Illustration: THEY.GATHERED.AROUND.AND.LISTENED.VERY.EARNESTLY..]

They craned their necks to watch her, and were filled with envy, seeing
that she and her chicks feasted bountifully, with very little
scratching, whereas _they_ scratched in the barn-yard all day, and found
only enough bugs to quarrel over.

"Indeed!" said one old rooster, "we have learned nothing about the best
way of scratching for bugs, with all our gabbling."

"I should be glad," spoke up a duck, "to learn the wonderful thing that
the little hen has learned, so _I_ could keep from quarreling with my
neighbors."

They all grew quite uneasy, and the gander became very angry.

"Such a stupid lot I have never seen!" he cried. "I have a great mind to
let you go your ways and not