All the chicks were asleep in bed,
Unaware of naughty Fred.
They did not here the wooden latch
Gently lifted off the catch.
Now Freddie thought that this was grand,
Even better than he planned.
“Yum! Yum!” said he, “nice chicken stew,
Is what I’m going home to brew.”
Before he’d said another word,
The sound of footsteps he had heared.
It was the farmer by the door,
Who scared him off for evermore.