hungrier he grew. You see, Reddy had been having rather a hard time to
get enough to eat.

"Yes, Sir," said Reddy to himself, "I would go a long, long distance to
get a good plump hen. I wish I knew just where that farm is that that
black rascal talked about. I wonder if he has gone that way now. If I
were sure that he has, I would make a little journey in that direction
myself. But I'm not sure. That black rascal flies all over the country.
That farm may lie in the direction he has gone now, and it may be in
quite the opposite direction. Somehow I've got to find out in just which
direction it is."

Reddy yawned, for he had been out all night, and he was sleepy. He
decided that the best thing he could do would be to get a good rest. One
must always be fit if one is to get on in this life. The harder one must
work, the more fit one should keep, and a proper amount of sleep is one
of the most necessary things in keeping fit. So Reddy curled up to
sleep.

Hardly had his eyes closed when he began to dream. You see, he had been
thinking so hard about those fat hens, and he was so hungry for one of
them, that right away he began to dream of fat hens. It was a beautiful
dream. At least, it was a beautiful dream to Reddy. Fat hens were all
about him. They were so fat that they could hardly walk. Not only were
they fat, but they seemed to think that their one object in life was to
fill the stomachs of hungry foxes, for they just stood about waiting to
be caught.

Never in all his life had Reddy Fox known anything so wonderful as was
that dream. There were no dogs to worry him. There were no hunters with