Yes, that suited Uncle Bear well enough; so off they marched, each of them with an empty bag to fetch back the apples. By and by they came to the storehouse, and nobody was about. This time the door was not locked, so in the both of them went and began filling their bags with apples. The Great Red Fox tumbled them into his bag as fast as ever he could, taking them just as they came, good or bad; but Uncle Bear took his time about it and picked them all over, for since he had come there he was bound to get the best that were to be had.
So the upshot of the matter was that the Great Red Fox had his bag full before Uncle Bear had picked out half a score of good juicy apples.
“I’ll just peep out of the window yonder,” says the Great Red Fox, “and see if Farmer John is coming.” But in his sleeve he said to himself, “I’ll slip outside and turn the key of the door on Uncle Bear, for somebody will have to carry the blame of this, and his shoulders are broader and his skin tougher than mine; he will never be able to get out of that little window.” So up he jumped with his bag of apples, to do as he said.
But listen! A hasty man drinks hot broth. And so it was with the Great Red Fox, for up in the window they had set a trap to catch rats. But he knew nothing of that; out he jumped from the window—click! went the trap and caught him by the tail, and there he hung.
“Is Farmer John coming?” bawled Uncle Bear, by and by.
“Hush! hush!” said the Great Red Fox, for he was trying to get his tail out of the trap.
But the boot was on the other leg now. “Yes, yes,” bawled Uncle Bear, louder than before, “but tell me, is Farmer John coming?”
“Sh-h-h-h!” says the Great Red Fox.
“No, no,” bawled Uncle Bear, as loud as he could, “what I want to know is, is Farmer John coming?”
