Farmer Green had enough of Bert’s attitude. There was something unsettling about that chicken. It was always strutting around like it owned the place, putting on airs and looking down on everyone. It never associated with any of the other chickens. It turned it’s beak up at worms and never once had he seen it fly. It just wasn’t right a chicken acting that superior. He was in charge of his farm and no chicken of his was going to get away with that sort of nonsense. Bert was going to learn to fly or die trying.
Bert (who was actually Betty–Farmer Green wasn’t really a very smart farmer) actually did think she owned the place. From the moment she hatched, she had been secretly coddled by the farmer’s daughter. She was hand fed, petted and groomed daily, and carried around like a princess in a basket. It was perfectly obvious to Betty that she was a superior creature. All that scratching around in the dirt was beneath her. That flying business was just undignified. As if she should propel herself somewhere! So it happened that Betty was most unpleasantly surprised the day she found herself tossed out of the hayloft into the empty air. With sudden clarity, and much flapping about, she realized she was in fact, just a chicken.