"No, really?" the hen said.
"I kid you not," said the other hen.
"He really said that?" said the first hen.
"Quiet, here she comes," said the third hen.
"She does't speak hen," a chicken said.
"Oh, yes she does, I converse with her all the time."
Silence.
By the time I walked by the hens, they had repositioned themselves near Opie, sprawled out on his lawn chair as if he had just worked a six day week. I went onto the barn.
"So tell me again, what did he say?" I heard a hen ask.
