““Where are the cows?” asked Lizzy, looking around. “In the barn, waiting to be milked,” said Farmer Ben. “But they left plenty of cow pies out here yesterday, so watch your step.” To one side of the barn stood the chicken coop. Ben stopped in front of it and said, “Before milking the cows, we have to feed the chickens.” The chicken coop was even smellier than the fertilizer. “ Pew! ” said Queenie. “Go ahead, Ferdy. You’ll fit right in!” Farmer Ben picked up a large bag of chicken feed and poured the feed into a bucket. He handed the bucket to Ferdy. “Now, how hard can feeding chickens be?” he said. “Show us how to do it, my boy.” He unlatched the door to the coop and held it open. “Go on, son. Git!” Ferdy stepped inside and walked to the center of the chicken coop. He scooped a handful of feed from the bucket and said, “I believe the common phrase for such a task is ‘piece of cake.’” Then he began to scatter the feed in a circle around him. The cubs heard Farmer Ben chuckle. “That’s mighty close to your body, son!” he called to Ferdy. But it was too late. Ferdy was already surrounded by a mass of clucking, pecking chickens. What’s more, in scattering feed so close to him, he had accidentally dropped some into the cuffs of his overalls. Soon there were chickens pecking hungrily at his ankles. “Ouch!” cried Ferdy. “Ow! Stop! Back, I say!” The cubs laughed as Ferdy dropped the bucket and did an awkward dance to avoid his attackers. Lucky for him, the chickens went for the feed that had spilled from the fallen bucket. That gave Ferdy a chance to dash through the door and slam it behind him. Farmer Ben patted Ferdy on the back. “We farmers have a saying,” he chuckled. “‘He who drops chicken feed at his own feet soon finds himself in a peck of trouble.’ Get it? Peck of trouble?” “Very clever,” Ferdy grumbled as the other cubs hooted and hollered.””
