Another large bowl of the bean soup was placed before the Tip-beetle, who likewise gulped and gulped at this, and at last diminished it to nothing. Now, the Tip-beetle by this time looked like a well-blown-up paunch. Still, when the old Owl remarked “Is there left of your capacity?” he replied: “Somewhat; by the favor of a little more, I think I shall be satisfied.”
“Old woman,” said the Owl, “a little more.”
The old woman placed another bowl before the Tip-beetle; and he ate and ate, and swallowed and swallowed, and gulped and sputtered; but with all the standing up and wiggling of his head that he could do he could not finish the bowl; and at last, wiping the perspiration from his brow, he exclaimed: “Thanks, thanks, I am satisfied.”
“Ha, indeed!” said the Owl. Both the old woman and the Tip-beetle had noticed, while the feast was going on, that the Owl had cut out a good-sized round piece of buckskin, and he was running a thread round about the edge of it, leaving two strings at either side, like the strings with which one draws together a pouch. Just as the Tip-beetle returned his thanks the old Owl had finished his work.
“My friend,” said he, turning to the Tip-beetle, “you have feasted to satisfaction, and it appears to me by your motions that you are exceedingly uncomfortable, being larger of girth than is safe and well for a Tip-beetle. Perhaps you are not aware that one who eats freely of bean soup is likely to grow still larger. I would advise you, therefore, when I lay this pouch on the floor, with the mouth of it toward you, to run your head into it and exhale as much wind as possible; and to facilitate this I will squeeze you slightly.”
The Tip-beetle was not very well pleased with the proposition; still he by no means refused to comply.
“You see,” continued the Owl, “you are at once to be relieved of the serious consequences of your gluttony, while at the same time paying for your food.”
“Now, this is an excellent idea, upon my word,” replied the Tip-beetle, and forthwith he thrust himself into the bag. The old Owl embraced the Tip-beetle and gently squeezed him, increasing the pressure as time went on, until a large amount of his girth had been diminished; but behold! the girth of the bag was swelled until it was so full with struggling wind that it could hardly be tied up! Outside, the rain was rattling, rattling.
Said the old Owl to the Tip-beetle: “My friend, if you do not mind the rain, which I dare say you do not, you may now return to your home. Many thanks for your assistance.”
The Tip-beetle, likewise with expression of thanks, took his departure.