They reached the town-land, and the man to whom it belonged gave them a piece of land the worth of seven Saxon pounds.
It was oats that they set that year, and they reaped it and they began to divide it.
"Well, then," said the fox, "wouldst thou rather have the root or the tip? thou shalt have thy choice."
"I'd rather the root," said the wolf.
Then the fox had fine oaten bread all the year, and the other one had fodder.
On the next year they set a crop; and it was potatoes that they set, and they grew well.
"Which wouldst thou like best, the root or the crop this year?" said the fox.
"Indeed, thou shalt not take the twist out of me any more; I will have the top this year," quoth the wolf.
"Good enough, my hero," said the fox.
Thus the wolf had the potato tops, and the fox the potatoes. But the wolf used to keep stealing the potatoes from the fox.