THE KID AND THE TIGER

Once upon a time there lived in the forest a mother goat who had four fat little kids, named Roley, Poley, Skipster and Jumpster.

Not far away from the home of the goats lived a mother tiger with her two little cubs.

Now the mother tiger always pretended to be a dear friend of the Nanny goat, but she really was jealous because Nanny had four little ones while she herself had only two.

One day the old tiger growled to herself, “If only I could find some way to eat up two of Nanny’s kids, then all things would be equal. But I must never let Nanny suspect me.” So the tricky tiger licked her striped coat until it fairly shone and she went to call on the Nanny goat.

“Dear friend Nanny,” she said with a sweet smile, “my little ones have gone out and I am very lonely at home. Do please let one of your dear little kids sleep with me.”

“Why, I shall be very glad to have one of them go,” answered the stupid goat, for she felt flattered that one of her children should be invited to visit the great tiger.

So Mother Goat went out to find her children. They were all having a frolic together. Roley and Poley were rolling over and over upon the ground, and Jumpster was jumping over Skipster.

“Come, children! Come, children!” called their mother. “A good, kind friend has invited one of you to come and spend the night in her house.”

“Ma—aa, Ma—aa,” bleated all the kids as they came running up and three of the little kids shouted, “Let me go! Let me! Oh, let me!”

But Roley, who was a wise little kid, said very quietly, “Who is the friend, Mammy?”

“Why, it is your dear Aunt Yellow-Stripe,” answered the Mother Goat.

Then all the little kids looked very sad, for they were afraid of the tiger. Although the Mother Tiger always smiled upon them, they could see her glistening teeth and when she tried to shake paws with them, they were afraid of her cruel claws; sometimes, when she rolled her eyes and looked at them, they felt that there was a gleam in her eyes which was not for their good.

“No-oo, thank you, Mammy! I would rather stay at home with you,” said Skipster.

“No-oo, No-oo, thank you, Mammy!” said Jumpster.

“No-oo, No-oo, thank you, Mammy!” said Poley.

They looked about at Roley to join in their frolic but, to their great surprise, Roley said, “Yes, Mammy, I will go, gladly.”

“Baa-ba-bad. Too bad-baa-baad!” bleated the other three kids. “Oh, don’t go, poor Roley, we do not trust that terrible tiger!”

But Roley would not heed their warning. He knew what he was about and he made up his mind that he would not let that terrible tiger trick him.

So Roley went home with the tiger, and although she purred over him and made a great fuss over him, he watched her very sharply.

When it was time to go to bed, Roley pretended to go to sleep, but he was watching all the time. At last he heard the old tiger snoring. He got up as softly as he could and went to the back of the den and found one of the baby tigers. They had not gone out as their mother had said, but were sleeping in a dark corner.

Roley took the little tiger-cub and put it down by the Mother Tiger, then he went and hid by the other little tiger.

About midnight the old Mother Tiger awoke and felt the little warm thing curled up by her side. Then she brought down her powerful paw with such force that she killed the little one at once, and gobbled him up. It was so pitchy black that she did not know, until morning, that she had eaten one of her own babies by mistake, for there was little Roley on the floor playing with her other little one.

When she realized what had happened she was wild with rage. Her eyes gleamed with a cruel light, but she managed to purr out sweetly, “Did you sleep well last night, Roley dear?”

“Yes, Auntie,” said Roley, “only a gnat stung me.”

“Well, never mind,” she murmured. “Just come again tonight and we shall see what we shall see.”

That night everything happened just as before; only Roley put a huge stone in his place, and then he ran for home as fast as he could go.

At midnight, when the tiger awoke, she brought down her paw upon the stone.

“Did you sleep well last night, Roley dear?”

“My gracious,” she said, “but that is a strong kid. I must kill him now, or he will kill me when he grows up.” So she bit at the stone with all her might—and broke all her front teeth. Howling with rage and pain, she looked all about her den, but Roley was not to be found.

Mother Tiger lay awake all night with the pain in her teeth. She thought and thought, but she could not plan her revenge upon Roley. So, in the morning, she went to a wise old, one-eyed tiger, her friend and counsellor, and asked him how she could punish Roley.

They talked and they walked and they walked and they talked and when they came back to the den, there was the reckless Roley, rolling about with the little tiger cub.

“Ha, ha,” laughed the old tiger. “So here you are, you little rascal! Just sit down and I will tell you a nice story.”

“Oh, do, dear Uncle One-eye,” cried Roley.

So One-Eye began, “When I eat my dinner, I like to eat kids. Four little kids are just one mouthful for me, and today I’m very hungry. So I am coming to your house and I shall make one mouthful of you and your brothers and sisters.”

“Good, good!” cried Roley, clapping his paws. “What good stories you do tell. Now, listen, and I will tell you a story.

“When you come to eat us up, Skipster will hold you by the forelegs, and Jumpster will hold you by the hind legs, and Poley will hold your head, and Roley will chop it off. And our mother will have a big fire ready, and we will cook you. But I think first we will skin off your coat for it will make us such a nice striped rug for our floor.”

This story terrified the old tiger and he took to his heels and ran for home as fast as he could go.

On the way home, he met six other tigers and he said, “My dear friends, I know where there’s a fine kid for you to eat. I do not care for him, myself, but I will help you catch him, and I will watch you eat him.”

The six tigers were all so hungry that each one would have liked to eat the whole kid. As they followed One-Eye, each tiger was plotting how to make the others do the work so that he could get the kid.

They started toward the goat’s home and, sure enough, there was Roley, rolling along toward home. But the minute he saw the tigers he crawled up into a tall tree that grew near his house.

The first tiger gave a spring in the air, but could not reach the branch where Roley was sitting. Then the second tiger tried. And, one after another, each tiger jumped, but missed Roley. So he sat there on his perch, mocking them: “Baa-ba—too baad! too bad!”

At last the tigers had to give up and they all sat in a ring and took counsel together. Then One-Eye said, “I know how we can reach him. I will stand here against the tree trunk and the rest of you can climb on my back, one on top of the other. Then we can catch the rascal very easily.”

They all agreed that this was an excellent plan. So One-Eye propped himself against the tree, and the other tigers climbed one on top of the other, until the top tiger reached out his paw and almost touched Roley. As he did so, One-Eye cocked up his eye to see how they were getting along.

Roley called out, “Mother, oh, Mother, give me a lump of mud, and I will hit the old brute in his one eye, and that will finish him.”

When One-Eye heard this he was so frightened that he gave a great jump and down tumbled the whole seven tigers in a heap, and all fighting and biting and scratching and spitting at each other, for they imagined other beasts were fighting them, and so they fought with one another until they were quite worn out.

As soon as each of the seven tigers got his four legs to himself, off he went to his home.

Then Roley climbed down from the tree and all those joyous kids kicked up their heels and rejoiced together.

Although they never had a tiger skin rug for their floor, they were just as happy, for they did not care to be reminded of their tricky friend, Yellow-Stripe. And the terrible tigers were so frightened that they never again troubled Nanny Goat and her four frolicsome kids.