“Not I,” oinked the pig, who was lying in some mud.
“Not I,” meowed the cat, who was taking a catnap.
“Not I,” quacked the duck, as he waddled back to the pond.
“Cluck Cluck, then I will do it myself,” said the little red hen.
Once the wheat had been ground into flour, the little red hen knew it was time to bake the bread.
“Cluck, who will help me bake the bread?” she asked, although she already predicted what the answer would be.
“Not I,” oinked the pig.
“Not I,” meowed the cat.
“Not I,” quacked the duck.
“Cluck cluck, then I will do it myself,” said the little red hen.
So she made the flour into a loaf of bread, and put it into the oven. Then, she sat and rested. Soon, as the bread become hot and soft, the air filled with the sweet smell of freshly baked bread. The pig and the cat and the duck all came running into the big red barn.
“Uh, who will help me eat this bread? Cluck! Who will help me eat this bread?” said the little red hen.
“I will!” oinked the pig.
“I will!” meowed the cat.
“I will!” quacked the duck.
“Cluck cluck, well,” said the hen, “Did you help me plant the wheat, and did you help me harvest the wheat, and did you help me mill the wheat, and did you help me bake the bread?”
The other animals all shook their heads no.
“Then I will eat the bread myself,” said the little red hen. And, she did.