for that matter. That is, they had no
business to be there, as Farmer Brown would look at the matter. He would
have called them two red thieves. Perhaps that is just what they were.
But looking at the matter as they did, I am not so sure about it. To
Granny and Reddy Fox those hens were simply big, rather stupid birds,
splendid eating if they could be caught, and bound to be eaten by
somebody. The fact that they were in Farmer Brown's henhouse didn't make
them his any more than the fact that Mrs. Grouse was in a part of the
Green Forest owned by Farmer Brown made her his.

You see, among the little meadow and forest people there is no such
thing as property rights, excepting in the matter of storehouses, and
because these hens were alive, it didn't occur to Granny and Reddy that
the henhouse was a sort of storehouse. It would have made no difference
if it had. Among the little people it is considered quite right to help
yourself from another's storehouse if you are smart enough to find it
and really need the food.

Besides, Reddy and Granny knew that Fanner Brown and his boy would eat
some of those hens themselves, and they didn't begin to need them as
Reddy and Granny did. So as they looked at the matter, there was nothing
wrong in being in that henhouse in the middle of the night. They were
there simply because they needed food very, very much, and food was
there.

They stared up at the roosts where the biddies were huddled together,
fast asleep. They were too high up to be reached from the floor even
when Reddy and Granny stood on their hind legs and stretched as far as
they could.

"We've got to wake them up and scare them so that some of the silly
things will fly down where we can catch them," said Reddy, licking his
lips hungrily.

"That won't do at all!" snapped Granny. "They would make a great racket
and waken Bowser the Hound, and he would waken his master, and that is
just what we mustn't do if we hope to ever get in here again. I thought
you had more sense, Reddy."

Reddy looked a little shamefaced. "Well, if we don't do that, how are we
going to get them? We can't fly," he grumbled.

"You stay right here where you are," snapped Granny, "and take care that
you don't make a sound."

Then Granny jumped lightly to a little shelf that ran along in front of
the nesting boxes. From this she could reach the lower roost on which
four fat hens were asleep. Very gently she pushed her head in between
two of t