"Yes, yes, good Mr. Jackal," said the man, "you shall have some, only don't bite me."
Then he set down the plate and the Jackal began to eat.
"Just scratch my back, you, woman," said the Jackal, "while I am eating my dinner."
"Yes, sir; yes, sir," said the man. He began gently to tickle and scratch the back of the Jackal, and in the middle, suddenly out with his knife, and slish! cut off the Jackal's tail.
The Jackal jumped up and capered about. "Yow-ow-ow!" he went, "what has come to my tail? Oh dear! how shall I swish away the flies? Oh dear, how it hurts! Yow-ow-ow!" Away he scuttled, as fast as his legs could carry him.
When he got home, all the Jackals came round him, and asked what had become of his tail. The Jackal was ashamed to have lost his tail, which was a particularly long and fine tail; but he pretended to like it.
"Poor fellow!" said the Jackals, "where is your tail?"
"I had it cut off," said the Jackal, "and good riddance. It was always in my way. Why, I never could sit down in comfort, and now look here!" He sat down on the place where his tail used to be, and looked proudly round. "Now, you try!" said he.
They all tried, and found that their tails got underneath them when they sat, and it hurt their tails rather.