The Chicken Gave It To Me Read Online Free Page A

they’re the ones doing it!’
    â€˜Who? Chickens?’
    â€˜No. Adults, of course! Think about it. If we did some of the things they do, they would be horrified. Suppose some of us took horses and rode them so fast in a race over such high and dangerous fences that, every year, some of them crashed down on theother side and broke their legs and had to be shot. They would go mad at us! They’d say our parents weren’t looking after us properly. They’d take us into care.’
    She was right.
    â€˜They would, too.’
    â€˜And suppose you were poking about at an animal as if it were just a toy, and you wanted to look at the clockwork inside it. You’d get in such trouble! You couldn’t just put a white coat on, and say, “I only wanted to know what would happen if I did this, or that”. “
I’m curious
” isn’t any better excuse for poking at things than “
I’m spiteful
”!’
    â€˜No,’ Andrew agreed with her. ‘Not if you’re the one getting poked.’
    Gemma took a deep breath.
    â€˜I’ll tell you something,’ she said. ‘I don’t think this chicken is just
brave
. I think this chicken is a
saint
.’
    He tried to hide his smile, but it was too late. She had seen it.
    â€˜No, really!’ she insisted. ‘If I’d been treated this way by people, I’d be
glad
to see them stuffed in my old cage. I would! I wouldn’t risk what was left of my life flying frillions of miles to try and save them.’
    Her look was fierce.
    â€˜I would let them
roast
!’
    And before he could even begin to argue, she’d flipped the page over and carried on reading.

10
Green sky. Green earth. Green wind. Green sand.

    Take my advice. Don’t ever stow away in a spaceship. You’ll have the worst time ever.
    They go faster than light. The soothing hum of the engines keeps lulling you off into daydreams. And when you try and distract yourself by peering out of the porthole, all you can see is crazy glittering spirals of shooting stars, blazing fireballs, bright spinning planets and shimmering flares of comet tails.
    I nearly
died
of boredom. Honestly. By the time we came down (or up, or in, or over – hard to tell which), I was almost ready to give myself up, and hope they were all still sick of eating chicken.
    But the planet itself was wonderful. It was green. Green sky. Green earth. Green wind. Green sand. (We landed on the beach.) Not being green, I scuttled off as fast as I could, into the undergrowth. That was green too. So were the seeds and roots. So were the grubs. And just in case you never get the chance to eat a green grub, I’ll tell you now, they are the
best
. Mmmmm
mmmmm
! Skin just a little bit crunchy, like a thin crust. And inside – so creamy and rich! Beak-smacking good!
    And they’re not very bright. I caught forty.
    Then it was time to get on with the job.
    I set off down the green road. I’d onlywalked round a couple of bends before I came across a huge advertisement set up to catch the eye of anyone walking the same way as I was.
    I stared in horror. I’d picked up enough of the language on the trip to know exactly what it said:

    Above the sign was a picture of a farm, filled with happy people of all ages and sizes running around a sunny meadow,laughing and eating ice creams. Under the picture was the slogan:
    ALL OUR PEOPLE ARE
FARM-FRESH
    I stood rooted to the spot. I was horrified. Farm-fresh, indeed! I’m not
daft
. I knew that anyone who arrived in time to be cooked for the grand opening on Friday had to come out of those horrid cramped cages.
    Sunny meadows! Ice cream!
    â€˜Ha!’
    â€˜I beg your pardon?’
    I must have cackled it aloud, because the little green man who was hurrying up behind me now said again:
    â€˜I beg your pardon?’
    It seemed as good a time as any to start on my mission of mercy.
    â€˜This sign!’ I