“Me?” the Fox said in a tone of great innocence. “How could I have been at your butter when you know perfectly well that I’ve been working right beside you all morning except when I was away at the christenings? You must have eaten up your butter yourself!”
“Of course I haven’t eaten it up myself!” the Wolf declared. “I just bet anything you took it!”
The Fox pretended to be much aggrieved.
“Pekka, I won’t have you saying such a thing! We must get at the bottom of this! I tell you what we’ll do: we’ll both lie down in the sun and the heat of the sun will melt the butter and make it run. Now then, if butter runs out of my nose then I’m the one that has eaten your butter; if it runs out of your nose, then you’ve eaten it yourself. Do you agree to this test?”
The Wolf said, yes, he agreed, and at once lay down in the sun. He had been working so hard that he was very tired and in a few moments he was sound asleep. Thereupon the Fox slipped over and daubed a little lump of butter on the end of his nose. The sun melted the butter and then, of course, it looked as if it were running out of the Wolf’s nose.
“Wake up, Pekka! Wake up!” the Fox cried. “There’s butter running out of your nose!”
The Wolf awoke and felt his nose with his tongue.
“Why, Mikko,” he said in surprise, “so there is! Well, I suppose I must have eaten that butter myself but I give you my word for it I don’t remember doing it!”
“Well,” said the Fox, pretending still to feel hurt, “you shouldn’t always suspect me.”
When they went back to the clearing, the Wolf began pulling the brush together to burn it up and the Fox slipped away and lay down behind some brushes.