Purrier leaped in softly and lay beside him. "Oh this is cold," said he. Then he went to the other side and lay down. "Oh, this is cold also," and he rose up shivering. Then he poked his paw under the fox and whispered—"Ha, ha, this is warm. The selfish fellow—it is just like him to choose the warmest spot. Come and judge for yourself, poor neglected Stupidify."
The goose jumped in clumsily and fell on her fat breast. Then she poked her beak under Crafticus and found it to be as the cat had said. It never struck her that the heat came from the fox's own body.
"Now, demand your rights," said Purrier, "demand a share of the comfortable spot," and he went away and lay down among the dried grass.
"I want my rights," cried the goose, in the fox's ear.
"What?" said Crafticus, rubbing his eyes.
"I want my rights, I want you to move."
"You have got your rights and double your rights. You can rest on either side of me and I have only the centre."
"I want my share of the warm part."
"How can the centre be warmer than the sides?"
"Let me try," said the goose.