They drank together many times, but, in spite of all, Brother Tiger was unable to see Daddy Sheep's teeth. He talked softly and modestly, and minced his words in a surprising way, as you have seen a young girl do. But Brother Tiger did not despair; he determined to accomplish his object, and so he again called attention to the wine.
"Wake up, Daddy Sheep!" he exclaimed; "I believe you are asleep. Arouse yourself and help me to finish this bottle."
"Thanks, thanks!" said Daddy Sheep, "but I am not thirsty."
"Tut, tut, neighbor," said Brother Tiger, "that is not the way to talk. Thirst is only for the gnomes and the sprites who seek the dew. As for us, the kings of this country, we must drink to divert ourselves."
Feeling himself flattered and enjoying it, Daddy Sheep extended his glass. It was promptly filled and he emptied it. It was as promptly filled once more, and he emptied it again.
"Here's to your health," said Brother Tiger.
"And to yours, my dear host," said Daddy Sheep, and he again emptied his glass at one gulp.
The more Daddy Sheep drank the gayer he became, and the louder he talked. He lost his customary reserve, but he had not yet condescended to laugh. Brother Tiger, however, continued to press wine on his guest, and it finally came to pass that Daddy Sheep sat back in his chair, and laughed in the foolish way common to those whose brains are befuddled by the fumes of liquor.
Brother Tiger saw the short teeth of his guest, and, without hesitating a moment, he leaped on Daddy Sheep and strangled him. Hearing the loud outcry made by his father, the little Sheep ran as quickly as he could to his mother.
"The wicked Tiger," he exclaimed, as he ran home, "has killed my father, and has no doubt devoured him!"