“Dear Bruin, tell me the honest truth—is it, or is it not very close in this den?”
“Yes, indeed!” replied Petz, “it does smell horribly here.” Upon this the Lion flew into a rage and tore the Bear into a thousand pieces.
Lampe, the Hare, was standing near the door of the den, and observed this mishap. Tremblingly he approached the Lion, who asked him, “Tell me, dear Lampe, is it not close in my den?”
“Oh, dear, no!” replied the Hare; “why should it be close? On the contrary, the air seems to me delightfully fresh.”
“You lie!” retorted the Lion, in high dudgeon; “it is not delightfully fresh; on the contrary, it is disgustingly close,” and he tore the Hare limb from limb.
Isegrim, the Wolf, saw and heard all this, for he was standing near the door of the den. He stepped in, and bowed low before the Lion, who immediately put the same question to him, “See here, Isegrim, tell me truly and honestly, is it close in my den or not?”
“Neither, sire!” replied the obsequious Wolf.
“Oh, you good-for-nothing liar!” roared the Lion, “it must be either one or the other; either it is close or it is not,” and he seized him and tore him to pieces.
Reinecke, the Fox, was looking in from outside, and now he drew near to pay his respects. So the Lion asked him, “See here, Master Reinecke, do you tell me now, is it close in my den or not?”
“Pardon me, august monarch,” replied Reinecke very humbly, “but by all I hold blessed I am not able to tell you, for I have taken such a cold that, upon honor, I cannot smell. But I do hate a lie from the bottom of my heart.”