after which he had thrown her skin over his shoulders, ran up innocently
towards the devouring monster, mistaking him for her mamma.

"He, he!" says a fox, sneaking round the hedge-paling, over which the
tree grew, whereupon the crow was perched looking down on the frog, who
was staring with his goggle eyes fit to burst with envy, and croaking
abuse at the ox. "How absurd those lambs are! Yonder silly little
knock-kneed baah-ling does not know the old wolf dressed in the sheep's
fleece. He is the same old rogue who gobbled up little Red Riding Hood's
grandmother for lunch, and swallowed little Red Riding Hood for supper.
Tirez la bobinette et la chevillette cherra. He, he!"

An owl that was hidden in the hollow of the tree woke up. "Oho, Master
Fox," says she, "I cannot see you, but I smell you! If some folks like
lambs, other folks like geese," says the owl.

"And your ladyship is fond of mice," says the fox.

"The Chinese eat them," says the owl, "and I have read that they are very
fond of dogs," continued the old lady.

"I wish they would exterminate every cur of them off the face of the
earth," said the fox.

"And I have also read, in works of travel, that the French eat frogs,"
continued the owl. "Aha, my friend Crapaud! are you there? That was a
very pretty concert we sang together last night!"

"If the French devour my brethren, the English eat beef," croaked out the
frog,--"great, big, brutal, bellowing oxen."