The Fox artfully scooped up a spoonful of the Wolf’s porridge and dropped it into his own pot.
“Help yourself,” he said. “Take some out of that spot there. That’s good.”
The place he pointed to was, of course, the place where he had dropped some of the Wolf’s own porridge.
So poor old stupid Pekka only sampled his own porridge again when he thought he was tasting Mikko’s.
“Strange,” he said, “your porridge doesn’t taste good to me either. I don’t believe anything tastes good to me to-day. The truth is I don’t believe I like porridge.”
He went home sad and discouraged while Mikko, the rascal, chuckled to himself and said:
“I wonder why Pekka doesn’t like porridge. It tastes awful good to me!”
