hungry as a schoolmaster.'

Now, while these thoughts were running through the mind of the wolf,
the very fox he had been thinking of was galloping along the other road.

'The whole of this day I have listened to those village hens clucking
till I could bear it no longer,' murmured she as she bounded along,
hardly seeming to touch the ground. 'When you are fond of fowls and
eggs it is the sweetest of all music. As sure as there is a sun in
heaven I will have some of them this night, for I have grown so thin
that my very bones rattle, and my poor babies are crying for food.'
And as she spoke she reached a little plot of grass, where the two
roads joined, and flung herself under a tree to take a little rest, and
to settle her plans. At this moment the wolf came up.

At the sight of the fox lying within his grasp his mouth began to
water, but his joy was somewhat checked when he noticed how thin she
was. The fox's quick ears heard the sound of his paws, though they
were soft as velvet, and turning her head she said politely:

'Is that you, neighbour? What a strange place to meet in! I hope you
are quite well?'

'Quite well as regards my health,' answered the wolf, whose eye
glistened greedily, 'at least, as well as one can be when one is very
hungry. But what is the matter with you? A fortnight ago you were as
plump as heart could wish!'

'I have been ill--very ill,' replied the fox, 'and what you say is
quite true. A worm is fat in comparison with me.'