Last December I adapted chapter one of the book Hitty: Her First Hundred Years by Rachel Field to make a brand new storybook with updated color illustrations. “Hitty’s First Adventure” has gotten a lot of interest from Hitty collectors who appreciate having a new way to share Hitty’s story with a younger generation. Now I have a brand new storybook based on chapter two. Like the first storybook, “Hitty and the Crows” was written for the target age group of nine to eleven-year-olds. If you know any kids this age, I encourage you to share this link or give them a printed copy of my story. And of course, younger kids may enjoy having the story read to them.
Click here to download “Hitty and the Crows!”
If you prefer the teacher’s version, which includes a two-page study guide and a bonus coloring page, go to my Teachers Pay Teachers Store. You don’t have to be a teacher to download the file, but you will need to make a free account.
Once you download the file, you can print it on a color inkjet printer or send it to a copy shop. I had the ten pages printed (double-sided) on 28# copy paper. Then I used a 3-hole punch to put them in a report cover with a clear plastic front, to make a simple book. Now the story is easy to read and enjoy over and over again. Special thanks to my test readers who helped me with the story: Nikki McCaslin, Marilyn Grotzky (and her nieces Madison and Stella), and Linda Doyle.
Flat Hitty is the star of “Hitty’s First Adventure” and “Hitty and the Crows.” I would love for kids to make their own Flat Hitty dolls to help them enjoy the storybooks. The easiest version to make is the basic Flat Hitty with the white outline, but you can also make a double-sided Extra Credit Flat Hitty or even a wooden version. There is also a black and white version of Flat Hitty to color on the Teachers Pay Teachers website.
Below is a letter from Flat Hitty introducing the real Hitty doll in the Stockbridge Library:
Dear Friends,
Have you heard of my Great-Aunt Hitty? She is a tiny wooden doll who lives in the Stockbridge Library in Stockbridge, MA. In 1928, Rachel Field and her friend, Dorothy P. Lathrop, found Hitty in an antique store in New York City. They began to daydream about all the adventures she must have had. Rachel wrote her story which Dorothy illustrated. The result was the book Hitty: Her First Hundred Years, and it won the Newbery Award for children’s literature in 1930.
Great-Aunt Hitty doesn’t travel anymore. She is nearly 200 years old and seems quite content to sit on her gray bench in the library. Whenever I visit, I love hearing about her adventures. I know her story by heart: how the Old Peddler carved Hitty from a piece of mountain ash wood for seven-year-old Phoebe Preble. You can read about that in my first storybook, “Hitty’s First Adventure.”
The original Hitty book had mostly black and white illustrations. Great-Aunt Hitty explained how she patiently posed as Dorothy drew each one. I thought it would be fun to create new color illustrations, so I asked Great-Aunt Hitty if she would be willing to pose again. She smiled and said, “My joints are too old and fragile now, but that sounds like the perfect project for you.”
I am happy to be a stand-in for Great-Aunt Hitty to help illustrate her story. I hope you enjoy “Hitty and the Crows!”
Love,
Flat Hitty
Hitty and the Crows
© Copyright 2026 by Wendi Dunn
My first summer in Maine was glorious. All the wildflowers seemed to be blooming at once. Phoebe took me to pick buttercups, daisies and devil’s paintbrush in the fields. In July, the wild roses opened their petals. Then in August we gathered delicate Queen Anne’s lace and goldenrod.
Now it was raspberry season. Mrs. Preble sent Phoebe and Andy to pick some of the fruit to make raspberry jam. I came along with them in Phoebe’s basket. When we got to the usual spot, the berries had already been picked.
“There’s a place way down by the shore near the Back Cove that has lots of raspberry bushes,” Andy said.
Phoebe frowned. “But that’s where the Indians live. Mother said we’re not allowed to go on Passamaquoddy land.”
“Well, your mother sent us to get raspberries, and there aren’t any more here. If they see us, we can run before they even get close.”
Phoebe agreed, and the two started walking. The Back Cove was a long way from home. We followed a path through a thick forest of pine trees. Then we turned towards the shore and walked along stones near the water’s edge. Finally, we reached the raspberry patch.
Phoebe took me out of the basket and placed me between the roots of a spruce tree, where I could watch them work. Andy and Phoebe started picking berries. Some of the raspberry bushes were very tall, and I could only see the tops of their heads bobbing up and down as they moved along.
It felt very peaceful there. The spruce woods sloped down to the bright blue, shining water. I could hear the birds singing and the gentle hum of bees. The pebbles on the beach made a rumbling noise as each wave hit the shore. No other doll in the world felt as happy as I did then.
Suddenly, I heard Phoebe cry out, “Indians, Andy!” She pointed towards the woods behind me.
Phoebe and Andy stared, eyes wide with fear. Andy grabbed Phoebe’s hand, and they fled. Pebbles slipped and rattled under their feet as they dashed along the beach. Plump red raspberries fell out of their baskets with every step. Then they disappeared among the trees.
At first, I could not believe that they had forgotten me. But there was no doubt about it. It felt awful to wait all alone, wondering what would happen when the Indians reached me.
I could hear people talking nearby, but their words were unfamiliar. A group of women dressed in colorful clothing walked past me into the raspberry patch. They all wore beaded necklaces and carried woven baskets. One of them had a papoose in a cradleboard on her back. The tiny baby looked right at me with big black eyes and smiled. Then they started filling their baskets with raspberries.
None of the women noticed me. They talked softly to each other as they worked. I wondered why Phoebe and Andy had been so afraid of them. It was almost sunset when they took off through the trees with their full baskets. Once again, I was alone.
“Now, Andy and Phoebe will come back for me,” I thought. But I began to worry as the sun dropped lower and lower. I watched the seagulls flying off toward Cow Island. I could see their black outlines against the sunset as they flew. It would have seemed very beautiful to me if I had not been alone.
Then a loud sound broke the silence.
“Caw, caw, caw!”
Suddenly, the world went black. A large crow landed in front of me and started pecking at my face. It was lucky that I was made of sturdy mountain ash wood. Her beak felt sharp, but I was not damaged.
She finally gave up trying to eat me. Then she saw the shiny button on the back of my dress and grabbed me by my waistband. She took off and started flying.
The crow rose high in the air and carried me a long way to her nest in a large pine tree. The nest held three hungry baby crows who poked me and shoved me around. I felt smothered when the mother crow sat on top of me. I have never been in a more uncomfortable position.
Over the next few days, I moved closer and closer to the edge of the nest. When I dared to look down, I was surprised to discover that the crow had carried me to the ancestral pine near the Preble farmhouse.
Right then, I made up my mind to jump from the nest. I tumbled out and fell a long way, but I got stuck in one of the outer branches. Now I was dangling upside down in midair.
“Will I have to hang here until my clothes fall apart?” I wondered. “What if they don’t find me until Phoebe is too old for dolls?”
Several more days passed. Andy was aiming his slingshot at the crows, when he finally noticed my yellow dress among the branches.
“Phoebe!” he yelled. “Come and see what’s growing on the old pine.” The whole family gathered around the enormous tree. Sadly, I was too high up for them to reach.
Andy tried throwing green apples to knock me down. When that didn’t work, Captain Preble made a long pole from a birch branch. He lashed a doughnut fork to one end, then tried to hook my skirt. To my joy, I felt myself lifted free of the pine branch.
“More than one way to harpoon your whale!” he laughed as he put me in Phoebe’s hands, “and more than one use for a doughnut fork!”
“I bet those pesky crows fetched her over here from the Back Cove,” Andy told Phoebe.
Phoebe was too happy to have me back to worry about how I got there. As for me, my only wish was to stay in Phoebe’s arms forever.
