Simple, who lived close by, had also a great contempt for men and women. He often boasted that he got his board and lodging all at their expense. But he did not know half as much as he thought he did; and many a time he had been kept from getting into a scrape by his good friend Crafty.
One night, about twelve o'clock, Crafty and Simple started out together to see what they could find. Having poked into every corner of Farmer Rural's cellar, without getting any thing better than raw potatoes, they made their way up stairs.
Just at the head of the stairs they came upon a sort of wire safe in which there was a most tempting bit of cheese. The door of the safe was open.
"Here's a feast," said Simple; and he was about to dart into the safe.
"Stop, my young friend," said Crafty, sitting bolt upright on his haunches. "That cheese has been put there on purpose for us."
"Well, then, why shouldn't we take it?" said Simple.
"Take my advice," said Crafty, "and let the cheese alone. Many a fine young rat has been cut off in the flower of his youth by snatching at the first good thing that happened to be put in his way. That safe is what men call a trap, and it is a very unsafe thing for you to meddle with."
A few nights after, the two friends started out once more, and in the middle of the cellar they found a nice barrel of meal. Simple was on the point of jumping right into it; but old Crafty stopped him again.
"Don't you know better than that, you greenhorn?" said he. "Never jump into a barrel in that way. Look here." And, crawling on the rim of the barrel, he flapped his long tail into the meal. "Splash, splash!" Right under the meal there was water.