He pretended to have a good deal of honor, though. He was quite a
pious crab, according to his own account of himself. When he had
caught a fish by his cunning, he used to say, "Poor fellow! it is his
own fault, not mine. He ought to have kept out of the trap. If one
does not know enough to keep away from my claws, he _ought_ to be
caught. Poor fellow! I'm sorry for him; but it can't be helped."

That is the way he took to quiet his own conscience, and to excuse
himself to others, when they complained of his deceitful conduct.

An old fox, having heard of our crab's mode of catching fish, and
what he said about it, determined to set a trap for the crab. He did
so. He went down to the sea shore, and thrust his long, bushy tail
into the water. The crab, thinking he had got another dinner by his
wit, seized the fox's tail with his claws. But the fox, giving a
sudden spring, brought the crab out of the water, and prepared to make
a meal of him at his leisure.

The crab complained, and accused the fox of being a deceitful fellow,
and a murderer to boot.

"But," said Reynard, "I have only acted according to your own rule. If
one does not know enough to keep away from a fox's tail, he _ought_
to be caught. It is the same thing as if he caught himself."

"Ah!" said the crab, with a sigh, "I made that rule for others, and
not for myself. I see now that _there is a flaw in it_."