de for their special benefit.

"Umph, umph, nice place," said the little pig; and he put his nose down
in the pansy bed and began to root up the pansies, for he thought that
was the way to behave in a garden.

While he was enjoying himself there the brown hen came down the road
with her family. She had thirteen children, and she was looking for a
nice rich spot where they might scratch for their breakfast. When she
saw the open gate she was delighted.

"Cluck, cluck, come on," she said to her chicks.

"Peep, peep, peep," said the little chickens, "is it a worm?"

"It is a beautiful garden, and there is nothing that I like better than
to scratch in a garden," answered the hen, as she bustled through the
gate. The chickens followed her, and soon they were all busy scratching
among the violets.

They had not been there very long when the red cow walked by the
garden. She was on her way to the Pond, but when she saw the open
garden gate she decided at once to go in.

"Moo, moo," she said, "this is delightful. Tender flowers are such a
treat." And she swished her tail over her back as she nipped the
daisies from their stems.

"Cluck," said the hen, "Peep," said the chicks, "Umph," said the little
pig, for they were pleased to have company. While they were talking a
rabbit with very bright eyes peeped in at the gate.

"Oh, is it a party?" he said when he saw the red cow, and the pig with
a curly tail, and the hen and chickens.

"Come in," said the pig, "and help yourself. There is plenty of room."
So the rabbit hopped into the garden and nibbled the green leaves and
the young vines.

"How many of us are here?" asked the red cow, but before any of them
could count, the gardener came home.

When _he_ looked into the garden he began to cry: "Oh, my pretty
pansies! my dear daisies! my sweet violets! my tender young vines!"

"What is he talking about?" said the chickens.

"I suppose he wants us to go out," answered the hen; and she ruffled
her feathers and quarreled as the gardener came hurrying toward them.

Then the cow ran one way and the pig ran another. The little chickens
got lost in the bushes, and the rabbit hid in the vines. The hen
cackled, and the pig squealed, and the gardener scolded. By the time
he had driven them all out of the garden the sun was high in the sky.

"Umph, umph," cried the little pig, as he scampered down the road, "we
will all come back to-morrow."

But when they went back the ne