st around
it, he congratulated himself on having caught so many fish that their
weight prevented him from lifting his tail. He was still pondering how
to transfer them to the surface when some women came to fill their
water jars.

"A wolf! a wolf!" they exclaimed excitedly. "Oh, come and kill it!"

Their cries soon brought their husbands to their sides, and all united
in belabouring the wolf. With a great effort, however, he managed to
free his tail, and ran off howling into the woods.

The fox, meantime, had profited by the absence of the householders to
make a good meal, visiting the various larders, and feasting at will
on the daintiest morsels he could find. Having eaten rather more than
was good for him, he felt disinclined for much exercise, and
determined to go in search of the wolf that he might induce him to
carry him home.

His sense of hearing being unusually keen, even for a fox, he was soon
guided to the wolf's retreat by his mournful howls.

"Look at my tail," cried the wretched animal, as the fox poked his
nose through the bushes. "See what trouble you brought upon me with
your advice! I am in such pain that I can scarcely keep still."

"Look at my head," returned the fox, who had carefully dipped it into
a flour bin after greasing it with butter that it might have the
appearance of having been skinned. The wolf was kind-hearted, though
stupid, and his sympathy was at once aroused.

"Jump on my back, little brother," he said, "and I will carry you
home."

This was exactly what the fox had been scheming for, and the words
were hardly out ere he had taken a comfortable seat. As he rode home
in this way he hummed to himself a sly little song to the effect that
he who was hurt carried him who had no hurt. Arrived at the end of his
journey, he scampered off without a word of thanks, and, as he made a
hearty supper on the remaining fish, he chuckled at the remembrance of
the trick he had played the stupid wolf.

The Fox and the Cat[1]

R. NESBIT BAIN

In a certain forest there once lived a fox, and near to the fox lived
a man who had a cat that had been a good mouser in its youth, but was
now old and half blind.

[Footnote 1: From _Cossack Fairy Tales_ (London: George G. Harrap and
Company).]

The man didn't want Puss any longer, but not liking to kill it he took
it out into the forest and lost it there. Then the fox came up and
said: "Why, Mr Shaggy Matthew, how d'ye do? What brings y