Daisy wouldn’t give up.

Every day she practised by herself, flapping her wings.

Flap, flap, flap, she would flap her wings but she couldn’t lift off the ground.

While she practised, she imagined herself flying high into the sky and looking at the chickens below.

She imagined herself flying past the sparrows and past the swallows.

“Wow!” the birds would say. “A chicken that can fly!”

So … Flap, flap, flap, every day Daisy would flap her wings.

She would lift off the ground but fall down again.