“Well, I have got a dainty bit, too,” said Reynard.
“What is that?” asked the bear.
“The biggest wild bee’s comb I ever saw in my life,” said Reynard.
“Indeed, you don’t say so,” said Bruin, who grinned and licked his lips, he thought it would be so nice to taste a little honey. At last he said: “Shall we swap our fare?”
“Nay, nay!” said Reynard, “I can’t do that.”
The end was that they made a bet, and agreed to name three trees. If the fox could say them off faster than the bear, he was to have leave to take one bite of the bacon; but if the bear could say them faster, he was to have leave to take one sup out of the comb. Greedy Bruin thought he was sure to sup out all the honey at one breath.
“Well,” said Reynard, “it’s all fair and right, no doubt, but all I say is, if I win, you shall be bound to tear off the bristles where I am to bite.”
“Of course,” said Bruin, “I’ll help you, as you can’t help yourself.”
So they were to begin and name the trees.
“Fir, Scotch Fir, Spruce,” growled out Bruin, for he was gruff in his tongue, that he was. But for all that he only named two trees, for fir and Scotch fir are both the same.