The Chicken Gave It To Me Read Online Free

after cage.
    â€˜And who kept them in here, not just day after day, or week after week, but for
lifetimes
?’ His green lip curled with scorn. ‘Now look at you! The tables are turned,and do any of you have the guts to face the fact you’re getting no worse than you gave out? No. It’s moan, moan, moan! Weep, weep, weep! Whine, whine, whine! You
disgust
me!’
    He glowered round the shed.
    â€˜Want to know something?’ he said. (They clearly didn’t, but he told them anyway.) ‘Your sort really make me sick! Even the chickens took it better than you do!’
    (I still didn’t care for his tone, if I’m truthful.)
    Someone behind him started arguing again.
    â€˜But it wasn’t so bad for the chickens. They’re not as
sensitive
as we are.’
    The little green man’s eyes widened.
    â€˜That’s a good one,’ he said, almost admiringly. ‘Is that how you did it? Is that what you kept telling yourselves?’ Hegrinned from green ear to green ear. ‘
We
could try that one,’ he said. ‘We’re sending the spaceship back tonight, to fetch a few spices and a much bigger casserole dish. If anyone up there starts feeling sorry for you lot, I’ll try that one on them.’
    Tipping his head to one side, he waved his willowy green fingers and said in a very silly fashion:
    â€˜Oh, don’t you worry about those
people
. They’re all right. I know they squawk and fuss and rattle the cage bars, trying to get out. But, honestly, they don’t mind really. You see, they’re not nearly as
sensitive
as we are!’
    And then he fell about laughing.
    Another time, I might have had a little private cackle at this joke. But not right that minute. You see, just then I’d come to a decision. Quite a brave decision for a chicken. I think I’ve mentioned that we lotaren’t really built for revenge. Well, if I’m honest, we’re not a byword for courage, either. We’re not daredevils. We’re not desperadoes. The name ‘chicken’ in fact (you may not know this) has almost come to mean ‘faint heart’ or ‘a bit of a funker’.
    No need to mince words. We chickens tend to have cold feet.
    But call me chicken no longer! For I had decided on a plan so bold, so daring, so foolhardy, I frankly doubted if anyone, anywhere, would ever truly think of me as chicken again.
    I’d stow away on the spaceship.
    Yes! Yes! I’d fly a frillion miles, to outer space! Tell everyone on the planets exactly what was going on!
    Surely, oh,
surely
, as soon as all the little green families out there heard about the horrible cages and learned what was happening, to feed
them
, they’d stick toeating boring old breads, seeds, grains, beans, cheese, eggs, salads and vegetables.
    And maybe the odd happy grub or two . . .

9
Just a toy
    â€˜So
brave
. . .’
    Gemma was bursting with admiration as she waited for Andrew to reach the bottom of the page.
    He lifted his head, distracted.
    â€˜Brave? Who?’
    â€˜The chicken, of course! Who else?’
    Andrew took a moment to answer. Then he said:
    â€˜I don’t know. It all seems very odd. I’m not sure if I believe it. I mean, here’s this farm, almost next door to the school. We’ve lived here all our lives, and never heard anyone say a word about the place. Not once.’
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜So how can it be that bad? If it wasthat bad, surely people would be
talking
about it.’
    What he said bothered Gemma. Was he right? She stabbed her finger on the chicken’s book, to get him reading again, so they could both turn over. But while he laboriously worked his way down the page of scratchy writing, she thought about what he’d said. And as soon as he reached the last line and looked up, she was sitting there ready to argue.
    â€˜I’ll tell you how. Because they don’t notice what they do, just so long as