"So when it got a little further on in the morning, an old beggar wife came walking by, who toddled from farm to farm with a bag on her back. When she set eyes on the little dog that stood there and howled, she couldn't help going near to look and see if any wild beasts had fallen into the pit during the night. So she crawled up on her knees and peeped down into it.
"'Art thou come into the pit at last, Reynard?' she said to the fox, for he was the first she saw; 'a very good place, too, for such a hen-roost robber as thou: and thou, too, Graypaw,' she said to the wolf; 'many a goat and sheep hast thou torn and rent, and now thou shalt be plagued and punished to death. Bless my heart! Thou, too, Bruin! art thou, too, sitting in this room, thou mare-flayer? Thee, too, will we strip, and thee shall we flay, and thy skull shall be nailed up on the wall.' All this the old lass screeched out as she bent over towards the bear. But just then her bag fell over her ears, and dragged her down, and slap! down went the old crone—head over heels into the pitfall.
"So there they all four sat and glared at one another, each in a corner. The fox in one, Graylegs in another, Bruin in a third, and the old crone in a fourth.
"But as soon as it was broad daylight, Reynard began to peep and peer, and to twist and turn about, for he thought he might as well try to get out. But the old lass cried out,—
"'Canst thou not sit still, thou whirligig thief, and not go twisting and turning? Only look at Father Bruin himself in the corner, how he sits as grave as a judge,' for now she thought she might as well make friends with the bear. But just then up came the man who owned the pitfall. First he drew up the old wife, and after that he slew all the beasts, and neither spared Father Bruin himself in the corner, nor Graylegs, nor Reynard, the whirligig thief. That night, at least, he thought he had made a good haul."
"The next story," said Peter, "is also out of the wood. It isn't often that Reynard gets cheated, but even the wisest folk sometimes get the worst of it, and so it was with Reynard in this story."
REYNARD AND CHANTICLEER.
"Once on a time there was a Cock who stood on a dung-heap, and crew, and flapped his wings. Then the Fox came by.
"'Good day,' said Reynard, 'I heard you crowing so nicely; but can you stand on one leg and crow, and wink your eyes?'