  The Cat and the Fox once took a walk together, Sharpening their wits with talk about the weather And as their walking sharpened appetite, too; They also took some things they had no right to. Cream, that is so delicious when it thickens, Pleased the Cat best. The Fox liked little chickens. With stomachs filled, they presently grew prouder, And each began to try to talk the louder-- Bragging about his skill, and strength, and cunning. "Pooh!" said the Fox. "You ought to see me running. Besides, I have a hundred tricks. You Cat, you! What can you do when Mr. Dog comes at you?" "To tell the truth," the Cat said, "though it grieve me I've but one trick. Yet that's enough--believe me!" There came a pack of fox-hounds--yelping, baying. "Pardon me", said the Cat. "I can't be staying. This is my trick." And up a tree he scurried, Leaving the Fox below a trifle worried. Pardon me, said the Cat, I can't be staying. In vain he tried his hundred tricks and ruses (The sort of thing that Mr. Dog confuses)-- Doubling, and seeking one hole, then another-- Smoked out of each until he thought he'd smother. At last as he once more came out of cover, Two nimble dogs pounced on him--All was over! 3,3 Here Lieth Reynard Ye Fox Who Had Many Tricks: Yet Lacked One. |
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