“Never mind, grandfather; if you’ll let me go you shall have a taste of my honey,” said the fox.
When the bear heard this he let go his hold and the fox jumped up on the stone after the honey.
“Over this nest,” said Reynard, “I’ll put a leaf, and in the leaf there is a hole, through which you can suck the honey.” He then put the nest right up under the bear’s nose, pulled away the leaf, jumped on to the stone, and began grinning and laughing; for there was neither honey nor honeycomb in the nest. It was a wasp’s nest as big as a man’s head, full of wasps, and out they swarmed and stung the bear in his eyes and ears and on his mouth and snout. He had so much to do with scratching them off him that he had no the to think of Reynard.
Ever since the bear has been afraid of wasps.
Once the fox and the bear made up their minds to have a field in common. They found a small clearing far away in the forest, where they sowed rye the first year.
“Now we must share and share alike,” said Reynard; “if you will have the roots I will have the tops,” he said.
Yes, Bruin was quite willing; but when they had thrashed the crop the fox got all the corn, while the bear got nothing but the roots and tares.
Bruin didn’t like this, but the fox said it was only as they had agreed.
“This year I am the gainer,” said the fox; “another year it will be your turn; you can then have the tops and I will be satisfied with the roots.”
Next spring the fox asked the bear if he didn’t think turnips would be the right thing for that year.