ot wag a step, the grass could do nothing, and so it went on for
some months, during all which time the weasel was busy with his
wickedness, till at last the bailiff set the gin for the rat by the
cart-house. Then the fox came out by day--contrary to his custom, for he
likes a nap--and went to a spot where he knew a rabbit sat in the grass;
and he hunted the poor rabbit (it was very good sport to see--I do not
like rabbits), till he had driven him across the ditch, where the weasel
was. Then the fox stopped, and hid himself in the furze; and the weasel,
first looking round to see that no one was near, stole after the rabbit.
Now the rabbit knew that the fox was about, and therefore he was afraid
to run across the open field; all he could do was to go down the hedge
towards the garden.

"Everything was going on well, and we sent word to the rat, to warn him
against the gin--we did not like the rat, but we did not want the gin
thrown--don't you see, dear? But when the rabbit had gone half-way down
the hedge, and was close to the garden, he became afraid to venture any
nearer your house, Bevis. Still the weasel crept after him, and
presently drove him almost up to your sycamore-tree. Then the rabbit did
not know what to do; for if he went forward the people in the house
might see him and bring out the gun, and if he turned back the weasel
would have him, and if he ran out into the field the fox would be there,
and he could not climb up a tree. He stopped still, trying to think,
till the weasel came so near he could smell the rabbit's blood, and
then, in his terror, the rabbit darted out from the hedge, and into the
ditch of your haha wall, under where the bee-hives are. There he saw a
dry drain, and hopped into it, forgetting in his fright that he might
not be able to get out at the other end.

"The weasel thought he had now got him safe, and was just going to rush
across and follow, when an ant spoke to him from the trunk of a tree it
was climbing. The ant said the fox had asked him yesterday to watch, and
if the weasel came that way, to warn him that there was a plot laid for
his life, and not to be too venturesome. This was a piece of the same
double-faced ways the fox has been notorious for these many years past.
No one hates the weasel so much as the fox, but he said to himself: 'The
weasel is so cunning, that even if he is caught, he is sure to find some
way to get free, and then he will perhaps discover that I had a