The Fox started as though he had heard the question for the first time.
“Ah, Harakka, is that you? Good day to you! I hope you are well! I hope the children are all well! I was so busy looking for the right tree that I didn’t recognize you at first. You see I have to cut down a tree to get wood for a new pair of skis. This tree is just the one I want.”
“Oh, mercy me!” the Magpie cried. “You can’t cut down this tree! Do you want to kill all my children? This is our home!”
Mikko, the rascal, pretended to be very sympathetic.
“I’m awfully sorry to have to disturb you, truly I am, but I’m afraid I do have to cut down this tree. I can’t find another that suits me as well.”
The Magpie flapped her wings in despair.
“You hard-hearted wretch! What will you take not to cut down this tree?”
The Fox put his paw to his head and pretended to think hard. After a moment he said:
“Well, Harakka, I’ll make you this offer: I’ll leave this tree standing provided you throw me down one of your fledglings.”
“What!” the poor Magpie shrieked. “Give you one of my babies! I’ll never do that! Never! Never! Never!”