The morning sun slightly tinted the borders of the silver clouds floating overhead. It was 8 o'clock AM, and I, Gertrude McCluck, Chicken in Charge, was busily pecking at my breakfast. I peered through the window of my dreary coop and ---

Behold! What was that I saw against the rising sun? A steadily increasing mob of chickens was gathering around a --- something. I'd better investigate. Automatically my faithful, but old magnifying glass was slipped into my wing.

The slight wind pulled at my feathers as I stepped into the morning air. Immediately the chickens spotted me as I approached, and parted to let me through. A small black toe lay in the center of the circle. All talking ceased as my spyglass was put into action. The tiny toe was very slender and smooth, lacking any scratches. I saw at once that it was no ordinary toe.

"Whose toe is it?" everyone was asking.

"Well," I said after further investigation, "this toe is one belonging to an extremely fine Australorp chicken that lives in Coop DeVilla. I assume it is Lady Silkyette's, for she has had signs of foot cancer lately."

Such an ado was never heard before. There was a grand chorus of "Ooh"s and "Aah"s and —

"Ah, poor thing!"

"Such a pity!"

"I never saw the likes!"

"What a shame!"

"I once saw Silkyette," Prudence Henny spoke with pride. "She is the beauty of all beauties. I even conversed with her a little. I am going to see her right away."

I retired to my dusty coop. It was nap time for me.

I awoke with a start. The sun was at its highest point and was shining in my eyes. I heard a puff and a cluck, and a Japanese bantam hen walked in.

"Bandy," I gasped, "what's wrong?"

"Gertrude, come quick," she clucked. "Silkyette is in a terrible fix and she says she's dying."

Bandy and I hurried off together. Once in Coop DeVilla, I spied Lady Silkyette in her nesting box.

"You okay?" I asked her.

"Oh, Mrs. McCluck," she sobbed, "the human master will come any minute now, and when he finds out that I can't walk, he will send me to the slums of the city and I will die there. I'm not worth my clucks if I can't even walk. And in a show a chicken is not very gaudy if her toe is missing."

"There now," I comforted, "I'll tell you what to do. Wash your foot with fresh water every day, and when the master comes, sit in your box and pretend nothing had ever happened. Good luck!"

And with that I returned home.

Several days later Silkyette stopped by.

"Look!" she exclaimed, extending her foot. "I followed your precepts and now I'm good as new!"

"And guess what!" she added, "Last night in the beauty contest I won first prize."