The Wolf, at the picture of so much comfort, nearly shed tears of joy.
They trotted off together, but, as they went along, the Wolf noticed a
bare spot on the Dog's neck.

"What is that mark?" said he. "Oh, nothing," said the Dog.

"How nothing?" urged the Wolf. "Oh, the merest trifle," answered the
Dog; "the collar which I wear when I am tied up is the cause of it."

"Tied up!" exclaimed the Wolf, with a sudden stop; "tied up? Can you
not always run where you please, then?"

"Well, not quite always," said the Mastiff; "but what can that matter?"

"It matters so much to me," rejoined the Wolf, "that your lot shall not
be mine at any price"; and, leaping away, he ran once more to his
native forest.



The Tail of the Serpent

The Tail of a Serpent once rebelled against the Head, and said that it
was a great shame that one end of any animal should always have its
way, and drag the other after it, whether it was willing or no. It was
in vain that the Head urged that the Tail had neither brains nor eyes,
and that it was in no way made to lead.

Wearied by the Tail's importunity, the Head one day let him have his