Miss Kitty Cat, too. And she was always warning them to
keep their feet dry.

"Water's good for nothing except to drink," Henrietta informed her
chicks. "Some strange people, like old dog Spot, jump right into it. And
how they manage to keep well is more than I can understand. Dust baths
are the only safe ones."

So much did she fear water that Henrietta Hen wouldn't even let her
children walk in the grass until the sun had dried the morning's dew. And
the first sprinkle of rain was enough to send her scurrying for cover,
calling frantically for her chicks to hurry.

Now, there was one of her family that always lagged behind when the
rain-drops began to fall. And often Henrietta had fairly to drive him
away from a puddle of water. She sometimes remarked with a sigh that he
gave her more trouble than all the rest of her children together.

This was the youngster that Mrs. Hen's neighbors told one another was
different from his brothers and sisters. But poor Henrietta Hen only knew
that he was unusually hard to manage.

As her family grew bigger, Henrietta Hen took them on longer strolls,
always casting a careful eye aloft now and then, lest some hawk should
swoop down upon her darlings. And though no hawk tried to surprise her,
something happened one day that gave Henrietta almost as great a fright
as any cruel hawk could have caused her.

They had strayed down by the duck-pond--had Henrietta and her children,
stopping here and there to scratch for some tidbit, or to flutter in an
inviting dust-heap. Once they had reached the bank of the pond Henrietta
began to wish she hadn't brought her family in that direction. For one of
the youngsters--the one that never would hurry in out of the
rain--insisted on toddling down to the water's edge.

"Come away this instant!" Henrietta shrieked, as soon as she noticed
where he was. "You'll get your feet wet the first thing you know."

She never said anything truer than that. The words were scarcely out of
her bill when the odd member of her family flung himself into the water.
Or to be more exact, he flung himself _upon_ it; for he floated on the
surface as easily as a chip and began to paddle about as if he had swum
all his life.

"Come back! Come back!" Henrietta Hen shrieked. "You'll be drowned--and
you'll get your feet wet!"

IV

A SWIMMER

Henrietta Hen ran as fast as she could down the bank and stood as near
the water as she dared, cackling loudly and fla