‘Now, my friend,’ he said, ‘give me your right paw.’
This he bound to the other branch, and having carefully seen that his knots were all secure, he stepped off the ends of the branches, and they sprang back, leaving the poor Fox suspended in mid-air.
‘Just you wait where you are till I return,’ said the Musician, and he went on his way again.
Once more he said to himself:
‘Time hangs heavily on my hands when I’m all alone in the wood; I must try and find another companion.’
So he took out his fiddle and played as merrily as before. This time a little hare came running up at the sound.
‘Oh! here comes a hare,’ said the Musician; ‘I’ve not the smallest desire for his company.’
‘How beautifully you play, dear Mr. Fiddler,’ said the little Hare. ‘I wish I could learn how you do it.’
‘It’s easily learnt,’ answered the Musician; ‘just do exactly as I tell you.’
‘That I will,’ said the Hare, ‘you will find me a most attentive pupil.’