Nothing was left of the Fishes
ONE BAD TURN BEGETS ANOTHER
Tybert the Cat and Courtoys the Dog were very great friends—that is to say they were as friendly as their natures would let them be. Both of them were exceedingly greedy and selfish. The Cat was spiteful and the Dog was sullen. Master Tyb was always willing to give up to the dog what he did not need himself, and on his part, Courtoys never stole the cat’s food while the cat was looking. Neither was loath to play a mean trick upon the other if he could do so without injury to himself, but except for these little matters they were quite in accord, and very friendly, as I said before, and on the whole they got on very well together.
There came a time when, in spite of Tybert’s shyness and Courtoys’ strength, they could by no means find anything to eat. For two days not a morsel of food had passed the lips of either; and this made them very bad tempered.
“I wish I’d never seen you,” said Courtoys to Tyb. “A fine partner you are, upon my word, when you can’t find food for us. Where are those wonderful wits of yours, of which you are always boasting.”
“In my head,” answered Tyb spitefully. “And such as they are, they have to do duty for two. If you’d talk less, and think more, and use your eyes, we would be better off. Here is a cart coming along the road; perhaps we shall find our dinner inside it!”
Sure enough, a heavy wagon was rumbling along the road towards them, driven by a peasant with a round and rather stupid face. As it came nearer, Tyb and Courtoys sniffed the air, and the water ran out of the corners of their mouths.
“Fish,” said Tybert ravenously.