The Fox was digging under an old tree and found a bumblebee. He gathered it up and put it into his bag and tied the string. Then he went to the first cottage at the end of the village street and said:
“Good morning, Good Mother. The way is long, and I am weary. May I leave my bag here while I go to the grocery store?”
“That will be all right,” said the old woman, “put it behind the door.”
So the Fox put the bag behind the door, saying, as he did so: “Be sure that you do not untie the string, Good Mother.” Then he went out of the cottage and on up the road.
The old woman looked at the bag and said to herself: “Now, I wonder what that sly fellow carries so carefully? It will do no harm to see.”
So she untied the string and started to look into the bag, and when the bag was opened the bumblebee flew out, and the rooster which was stalking about in the kitchen promptly ate him up.
When the Fox came back he saw that his bag had been opened and he said to the old woman: “Where is my bumblebee?”
“I opened the bag for but an instant,” said the old woman, “and the bumblebee flew out and the rooster ate him up.”
“Then I must take the rooster,” said the Fox. So he gathered up the rooster, put him into the bag and tied the string, and threw the bag over his shoulder and went on down the road.
When he came to the next cottage he knocked at the door and said: “Good morning, Good Mother. The way is long and I am weary. May I leave my bag here while I go on to the grocery store?”