A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks to the mill loyally for many a long year; but his strength was going, and he was growing more and more unfit for work. Then his master began to wonder if it was worth his while keeping this old donkey much longer.
The donkey, seeing that no good wind was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to Bremen. "There,” he thought, "I can surely be town-musician.”
When he had walked some distance, he found a dog lying on the road, gasping like one who had run till he was tired. "What are you gasping so for, you big fellow?” asked the donkey.
"Ah,” replied the dog, "as I am old, and daily grow weaker, and no longer can hunt, my master wanted to kill me, so I ran away, but now how am I to earn my bread?”
"I tell you what,” said the donkey, "I am going to Bremen, and shall be a town-musician there; go with me and work also as a musician. I will play the lute, and you shall beat the kettledrum.”
The dog agreed, and on they went. Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path, with a face like three rainy days! "Now then, old fluff and claws, what gone all wrong with you?” asked the donkey.
"Who can be merry when his neck is in danger?” answered the cat. "Because I am now getting old, and my teeth are worn to stumps, and I prefer to sit by the fire and spin, rather than hunt about after mice, my mistress wanted to drown me, so I ran away. But now good advice is scarce. Where am I to go?”
"Go with us to Bremen. You understand night-music, you can be a town-musician.”
The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After this the three runaways came to a farm-yard, where the cockerel was sitting upon the gate, cock-a-doodle-doing with all his might. "Your cock-a-doodle-do goes through and through my skull” said the donkey. "What is the matter?”
` Guests are coming for Sunday and the housewife has no pity,’ said the cockerel, ‘ And has told the cook that she intends to eat me in the soup to-morrow, and this evening I am to have my head cut off. Now I am cock-a-doodle-doing at full pitch while I can.”
"Ah you red-headed bird” said the donkey, "you had better come away with us. We are going to Bremen; you can find something better than death everywhere: you have a good voice, and if we make music together it must have some quality!”
The cockerel agreed to this plan, and all four went on together. They could not, however, reach the city of Bremen in one day, and in the evening they came to a forest where they meant to pass the night. The donkey and the dog laid themselves down under a large tree, the cat and the cockerel settled themselves in the branches; but the cockerel flew right to the top, where he was most safe. Before he went to sleep, he called out to his companions that there must be a house not far off, for he saw a light. The donkey said, "If so, we had better get up and go on, for the shelter here is bad.” The dog thought that a few bones with some meat on would do him good too!
So they moved further on, and soon saw the light shine brighter and grow larger, until they came to a well-lit robber’s house. The donkey, as the biggest, went to the window and looked in. "What do you see, my grey-horse?” asked the cockerel. "What do I see?” answered the donkey; "a table covered with good things to eat and drink, and robbers sitting at it enjoying themselves.” "That would be the sort of thing for us,” said the cockerel. "Yes, yes; ah, how I wish we were there!” said the donkey.
Then the animals put their heads together and schemed how to best win an invitation to come inside and join the robbers at the table.
"Come, come my friends,,” said the donkey, "We are musicians, so let us sing for our supper.”
And so they began to perform their music together: the donkey brayed, the dog barked, the cat mewed, and the cockerel cock-a-doodle-doed; then they burst through the window into the room, so that the glass clattered! At this horrible din, the robbers sprang up, thinking no otherwise than that a ghost had come in, and fled in a great fright out into the forest. The four companions now sat down at the table, well content with what was left, and ate as if they were going to fast for a month.
As soon as the four musicians had done, they put out the light, and each found a sleeping-place according to his nature and to what suited him. The donkey laid himself down upon some straw in the yard, the dog behind the door, the cat upon the hearth near the warm ashes, and the cockrel perched himself upon a beam of the roof; and being tired from their long walk, they soon went to sleep.
When it was past midnight, and the robbers saw from afar that the light was no longer burning in their house, and all appeared quiet, the captain said, "We ought not to have let ourselves be frightened out of our wits;” and ordered one of them to go and examine the house.
The messenger finding all still, went into the kitchen to light a candle, and, taking the glistening fiery eyes of the cat for burning coals, he held the candle to them to light it. But the cat did not understand what he meant to do, and flew in his face, spitting and scratching. He was dreadfully frightened, and ran to the back-door, but the dog, who lay there sprang up and bit his leg; and as he ran across the yard by the straw-heap, the donkey gave him a smart kick with its hind foot. The cockerel, too, who had been awakened by the noise, and had become lively, cried down from the beam, "cock-a-doodle-doo!”
Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his captain, and said, "Ah, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house, who spat on me and scratched my face with her long claws; and by the door stands a man with a knife, who stabbed me in the leg; and in the yard there lies a black monster, who beat me with a wooden club; and above, upon the roof, sits the judge, who called out, `Bring the rogue here to me!’ so I got away as well as I could.”
After this the robbers did not trust themselves in the house again; but it suited the four musicians of Bremen so well that they did not care to leave it any more.
Grandpa planted a turnip. The turnip grew bigger and bigger. Grandpa came to pick the turnip, pulled and pulled but couldn't pull it up! Grandpa called Grandma.
Grandma pulled Grandpa,
Grandpa pulled the turnip.
They pulled and pulled but couldn't pull it up! Granddaughter came.
Granddaughter pulled Grandma,
Grandma pulled Grandpa,
Grandpa pulled the turnip. They pulled and pulled but couldn't pull it up!
The doggy came.
Doggy pulled Granddaughter,
Granddaughter pulled Grandma,
Grandma pulled Grandpa,
Grandpa pulled the turnip. They pulled and pulled but couldn't pull it up!
A kitty came.
Kitty pulled doggy,
Doggy pulled Granddaughter,
Granddaughter pulled Grandma,
Grandma pulled Grandpa,
Grandpa pulled the turnip. They pulled and pulled but couldn't pull it up!
A mouse came.
The mouse pulled kitty,
Kitty pulled doggy,
Doggy pulled Granddaughter,
Granddaughter pulled Grandma,
Grandma pulled Grandpa,
Grandpa pulled the turnip. They pulled and pulled and pulled the turnip up!
The fox once had a notion to treat the crane to dinner and went to invite him to her house.
"Come godfather! Come dear! How I'll entertain you!"
The crain went to the dinner party. The fox had cooked farina cereal and spread it over a plate. She served it and urged.
"Eat, my friend-godfather, I cooked it myself. "
The crane went peck-peck with his bill, knocked and knocked, but got nothing. Meanwhile, the fox licked and licked the cereal until she had eaten it all.
The cereal eaten, the fox said,
"Don't be offended dear godfather. There is nothing more to offer you."
"Thank you, godmother for that. Come to visit me."
The next day the fox went, and the crane made cold soup.
He poured it into a pitcher with a narrow neck and put it on the table. He said,
"Eat godmother. Truly, there's nothing more offer you."
The fox began to spin around the pitcher. She approached it one way, then another. She licked it and sniffed it, but couldn't get anything. Her head wouldn't fit into the pitcher.
Mean-while the crane sucked and sucked until he had eaten everything up.
"Don't be offended godmother. There's nothing more to offer you."
The fox was annoyed, having thought she would eat for the whole week. She went home having gotten nothing.
It was tit for tat! From that moment on, the friendship between fox and crane was over.
There once lived a little girl who was called Goldilocks because her hair shone like gold. She was very fond of wild flowers and often went into the woods to pick them.
One day she walked and walked, and was soon a longer way from home than she had ever been before. In fact, she was lost. But she hurried on, hoping to meet someone who might be able to tell her how she could get home.
On and on she wandered and finally in a particularly lonely spot she happened onto a neat little house. It was really the house in which lived the three bears — the Papa Bear, the Mama Bear, and the little Baby Bear — but of course Goldilocks didn’t know that.
The little girl went up to the door and knocked. There was no answer. She knocked again. Still no answer. And so she opened the door and went in. She was very tired and hungry.
Goldilocks looked around, and saw a little table set with a nice white cloth, and on the table were three bowls — a big blue bowl, a middle-sized bowl, and a little yellow bowl. These three bowls belonged to the Papa Bear, the Mama Bear, and the Baby Bear.
Goldilocks lifted up the covers to look into the bowls. Each was full of delicious-smelling porridge which the three bears had left there to cool while they went for their early morning walk in the woods. Later they would return for a hearty breakfast.Goldilocks picked up the spoon which was in the big blue bowl and tasted the porridge belonging to the Papa Bear. It was very hot, much too hot for the little girl to eat.
The little girl then turned to the red bowl and tasted the porridge that belonged to the Mama Bear. It was much too cold.
But there was still another bowl, and Goldilocks dipped her spoon into the porridge in the little yellow bowl, the one that belonged to the Baby Bear. How good that porridge smelled!
Goldilocks tasted it. Um-m-m-m! It was just right, and so she ate and ate and ate until there was not a bit of porridge left in the Baby Bear’s little bowl.
After having eaten, Goldilocks wandered into the living room to sit down. There along the wall stood three chairs — a big chair, a middle-sized chair, and a little chair.
She tried the big chair, which belonged to the Papa Bear, but it was too high, much too high for such a little girl.
Then she tried the middle-sized chair, which belonged to the Mama Bear, but it was too wide, much too wide for Goldilocks.
There was still a third chair, the one that belonged to Baby Bear. It was a cozy little chair with a green leather seat, and it looked like a very good chair for a tired little girl to rest in.
And so Goldilocks sat down in the Baby Bear’s chair. It was just right, and she sat so hard that she broke it. The little girl got quite a surprise when she tumbled to the floor, but she immediately picked herself up and decided she would go upstairs and look around. She was quite sleepy by now, and maybe she could find a nice bed upon which to lie down.
Then Goldilocks climbed the stairs to the bedroom, and there found three beds — one for the Papa Bear, one for the Mama Bear, and one for the Baby Bear. They were all fresh and clean.
Goldilocks lay down on Papa Bear’s great big bed, but it was too hard.
Then she tried Mama Bear’s middle-sized bed, but it was much too soft.
There was still a third bed — Baby Bear’s bed — with a pink and white spread on it. Goldilocks tried the littlest bed, and it was just right, and so she curled up and was soon fast asleep.
Now while Goldilocks was sleeping, the bears came home from their walk.
They were very hungry and went at once to the kitchen to eat their porridge.
The Papa Bear had picked up his spoon and was about to begin eating when he suddenly growled in his big-bear voice, “Somebody has been tasting my porridge!”
When the Mama Bear saw her bowl, she said in her middle-sized bear voice, “And somebody has been tasting my porridge, too!”
Baby Bear saw his empty bowl, and began to cry. “Somebody has been tasting my porridge, and has eaten it every bit!” he wailed.
Then the three bears went into the living room to sit down and rest.
Papa Bear noticed that his chair had been pulled out of its usual position.
“Somebody has been sitting in my chair!” he grumbled in his gruff voice.
“And somebody has been sitting in my chair!” said Mama Bear.
Baby Bear began crying harder than before. “Somebody has been sitting in my chair and has broken it all to pieces!” he sobbed.
Baby Bear had no chair to sit on, and so the three bears decided they would go upstairs to rest. They would take a short nap.
As they entered the bedroom Papa Bear glanced at the big bed. “Somebody has been tumbling in my bed!” he growled.
“And somebody has been tumbling in my bed!” said Mama Bear in her turn, walking over to the middle-sized bed and carefully smoothing the spread, which was quite rumpled.
All this time Baby Bear had been staring hard at his own little bed. Finally he found his voice and piped up, “Somebody has been tumbling in my bed, and here she is!”
At the sound of the Baby Bear’s voice the little girl awoke with a start. She sat up and glanced about her. Then she sprang out of bed, and dashed down the stairs and out of the house as fast as her legs would carry her.
And Goldilocks never, never went near the house of the three bears again.
Once there was a gentleman who married, for his second wife, the proudest and most haughty woman that was ever seen. She had been married before, and already had two daughters who were exactly like her in all things. He had likewise, by his first wife, a young daughter, but of unequalled goodness and sweetness of temper, which she took from her mother, who was the best creature in the world. This sweet little girl missed her mother, who had died, terribly much.
No sooner was the wedding ceremony over, than the new wife began to show herself in her true colors. She could not bear the goodness of the gentleman’s pretty girl, and especially as she made her own daughters appear the more horrid. She made her do the meanest jobs in the house: the girl scoured the dishes and tables, and scrubbed the stepmother’s bathroom, and those of her daughters; she slept in a little attic, upon a wretched straw bed, while her sisters lay upon beds with the softest pillows, in fine rooms, with floors covered with beautiful carpets, and walls on which hung looking-glasses so large that they might see themselves at their full length from head to foot.
The poor girl bore all patiently, and dared not tell her father, who would have been angry with her; for his new wife ruled him entirely. When the little girl had done her work, she used to go into the chimney-corner, and sit down among cinders and ashes, which led her to be called Cinderwench; but the youngest step-daughter, who was not quite so rude and unkind as the eldest, called her Cinderella. However, Cinderella, even though she was dressed in rags, was a hundred times prettier than her sisters, though they were always dressed very richly.
It happened that the King’s son gave a ball, and invited all finest gentlemen and ladies of the city. Our young misses were also invited, for they were always to be seen at fashionable parties. They were truly delighted at this invitation, and wonderfully busy in choosing such gowns, petticoats, and head-clothes as might suit them. This was a new trouble to Cinderella; for it was she who washed and ironed her sisters’ clothes and got all their things ready. Meanwhile, the sisters talked all day long of nothing but what they should wear to the ball.
"For my part,” said the eldest, "I will wear my red velvet suit with French trimming.”
"And I,” said the youngest, "shall have my usual petticoat; but then, to make amends for that, I will put on my gold-flowered gown, and my diamond belt, which is far from being the most ordinary one in the world.”
But in truth, they were still not absolutely sure what would be best to wear to the ball, so they sent for the best fashion designer they could find to advise on their evening dresses, and they had their nails maniqured at Mademoiselle de la Poche.
Cinderella was likewise called up to them for advice, for she had excellent judgement, and advised them always for the best, indeed, and offered her services to make up their hair, which they were very willing she should do. As she was doing this, they said to her:
"Cinderella, would you not be glad to go to the ball?”
"Alas!” said she, "you only jeer me; it is not for a poor girl like me to go there.”
"You’re quite right,” replied they; "it would make the people laugh to see a Cinderwench at a ball.”
Anyone but Cinderella would have dressed their heads all wrong, but she was very good, and dressed them perfectly well.
The step-sisters were almost two days without eating, so much were they thrilled and excited. They broke above a dozen corsettes in trying to be laced up tightly, so that they might have a fine slender shape, and they were continually at their looking-glass. At last the happy day came; they went to Court, and Cinderella followed them with her eyes as long as she could, and when she had lost sight of them, she fell a-crying.
Just then, her fairy-godmother, who used to watch-over her secretly, saw her all in tears, and appeared at her side and asked her what was the matter.
"I wish I could–I wish I could–”; she was not able to speak the rest, being interrupted by her tears and sobbing.
This fairy godmother of hers said to her, "You wish you could go to the ball; is it not so?”
"Y–es,” cried Cinderella, with a great sigh.
"Well,” said her godmother, "be but a good girl, and I will see that you shall go to the ball.” Then she took her into her secret room, and said to her, "Run into the garden, and bring me a pumpkin.”
Cinderella went immediately to gather the finest she could get, and brought it to her godmother, not being able to imagine how this pumpkin could make her go to the ball. Her godmother scooped out all the inside of the big vegitable, leaving nothing but the rind; which done, she struck it with her wand, and the pumpkin was instantly turned into a fine coach, gilded all over with gold.
She then went to look into her mouse-trap, where she found six mice, all alive, and ordered Cinderella to lift up a little the trapdoor. As each mouse went out, she gave it a little tap with her wand, and the mouse was that moment turned into a fine horse, which altogether made a very fine set of six horses of a beautiful mouse-colored dapple-gray. But they still needed a coachman,
"I will go and see,” says Cinderella, "if there is a rat in the rat-trap–we may make a coachman of him.”
"You’re a smart one,” replied her godmother; "go and look.”
Cinderella brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge rats. The fairy made choice of one of the three which had the largest beard, and, having touched him with her wand, he was turned into a fat, jolly coach- man, who had the smartest whiskers eyes ever beheld. After that, she said to her:
"Go again into the garden, and you will find six lizards behind the watering-pot, bring them to me.”
She had no sooner done so but her godmother turned them into six footmen, who skipped up immediately behind the coach, with their uniforms all bedaubed with gold and silver, and clung as close behind each other as if they had done nothing else their whole lives. The Fairy then said to Cinderella:
"Well, you have here transport fit to take you to the ball; are you not pleased with it?”
"Oh! yes,” cried she; "but must I go there as I am, in these nasty rags?”
Her godmother only just touched her with her wand, and, at the same instant, her clothes were turned into cloth of gold and silver, all beset with jewels. This done, she gave her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the whole world. Being thus decked out, she got up into her coach; but her godmother, above all things, commanded her not to stay till after midnight, telling her, at the same time, that if she stayed one moment longer, the coach would be a pumpkin again, her horses mice, her coachman a rat, her footmen lizards, and her clothes become just as they were before.
She promised her godmother she would not fail of leaving the ball before midnight; and then away she drives, scarce able to contain herself for joy. The King’s son who was told that a great princess, whom nobody knew, was come, ran out to receive her; he gave her his hand as she alighted out of the coach, and led her into the ball, among all the company. There was immediately a profound silence, they left off dancing, and the violins ceased to play, so attentive was everyone to contemplate the singular beauties of the unknown new-comer. Nothing was then heard but a confused noise of:
"Ha! how lovey she is! Ha! how lovely she is!”
The King himself, old as he was, could not help watching her, and telling the Queen softly that it was a long time since he had seen so beautiful and lovely a creature.
All the ladies were busied in considering her clothes and headdress, that they might have some made next day after the same pattern, provided they could meet with such fine material and as able hands to make them.
The King’s son led her to the most honorable seat, and afterward took her out to dance with him; she danced so very gracefully that they all more and more admired her. A fine banquet was served up, of which the young prince ate not a morsel, so intently was he busied in gazing on her.
She went and sat down by her sisters, showing them a thousand polite gestures, giving them part of the oranges and lemon blosoms which the Prince had presented her with, which very much surprised them, for they did not recognise her. While Cinderella was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock strike eleven and three-quarters, whereupon she immediately made a courtesy to the company and hasted away as fast as she could.
When she got home she ran to seek out her godmother, and, after having thanked her, she said she could not but heartily wish she might go next day to the ball, because the King’s son had desired her.
As she was eagerly telling her godmother whatever had passed at the ball, her two sisters knocked at the door, which Cinderella ran and opened.
"How long you have stayed!” cried she, gaping, rubbing her eyes and stretching herself as if she had been just waked out of her sleep; she had not, however, any manner of inclination to sleep since they went from home.
"If you had been at the ball,” said one of her sisters, "you would not have been tired with it. There came there the finest princess, the most beautiful ever was seen with mortal eyes; she was a thousand times nice to us, and gave us orange and lemon blossoms.”
Cinderella seemed very indifferent in the matter; indeed, she asked them the name of that princess; but they told her they did not know it, and that the King’s son was very uneasy on her account and would give all the world to know who she was. At this Cinderella, smiling, replied:
"She must, then, be very beautiful indeed; how happy you have been! Could not I see her? Ah! dear Miss Charlotte, do lend me your yellow suit of clothes which you wear every day.”
"Ay, to be sure!” cried Miss Charlotte; "lend my clothes to such a dirty Cinderwench as you! I should be a fool.”
Cinderella, indeed, expected well such answer, and was very glad of the refusal; for she would have been sadly put to it if her sister had lent her what she asked for jokingly.
The next day the two sisters were at the ball, and so was Cinderella, but dressed more magnificently than before. The King’s son was always by her, and never ceased his compliments and kind speeches to her; to whom all this was so far from being tiresome that she quite forgot what her godmother had recommended to her; so that she, at last, counted the clock striking twelve when she took it to be no more than eleven; she then rose up and fled, as nimble as a deer. The Prince followed, but could not overtake her. She left behind one of her glass slippers, which the Prince took up most carefully. She got home but quite out of breath, and in her nasty old clothes, having nothing left her of all her finery but one of the little slippers, fellow to that she dropped. The guards at the palace gate were asked: If they had not seen a princess go out. They replied that had seen nobody go out but a young girl, very meanly dressed, and who had more the air of a poor country wench than a gentlewoman.
When the two sisters returned from the ball Cinderella asked them: If they had been well diverted, and if the fine lady had been there.
They told her: Yes, but that she hurried away immediately when it struck twelve, and with so much haste that she dropped one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest in the world, which the King’s son had taken up; that he had done nothing but look at her all the time at the ball, and that most certainly he was very much in love with the beautiful person who owned the glass slipper.
What they said was very true; for a few days after the King’s son commanded it to be proclaimed, by sound of trumpet, that he would marry the young woman whose foot would perfectly fit the slipper. He sent out his most trusted advsiers from the palace, who began to try it upon the princesses, then the duchesses and all the Court, but in vain; it was brought to the two sisters, who each did all that she possibly could to thrust her foot into the slipper, but neither sister could manage to do so. Cinderella, who saw all this, and knew her slipper, said to them, laughing:
"Let me see if it will not fit me.”
Her sisters burst out a-laughing, and began to tease her. The gentleman who was sent to try the slipper looked earnestly at Cinderella, and, finding her very handsome, said: it was only right that that she should try, and that he had orders to let every girl try.
He asked Cinderella to sit down, and, putting the slipper to her foot, he found it went on very easily, and fitted her as if it had been made of wax. The astonishment her two sisters were in was excessively great, but still abundantly greater when Cinderella pulled out of her pocket the other slipper, and put it on her foot. Thereupon, in came her godmother, who, having touched with her wand Cinderella’s clothes, made them richer and more magnificent than any of those she had before.
And now her two sisters found her to be that fine, beautiful lady whom they had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet to beg pardon for all the ill- treatment they had dished out to her. Cinderella took them up, and, as she embraced them, cried:
That she forgave them with all her heart, and desired them always to love her.
She was brought by carriage to the young prince, dressed as she was; he thought her more charming than ever, and, a few days after, married her. Cinderella, who was no less good than beautiful, gave her two sisters rooms in the palace, and that very same day matched them with two great lords of the Court.
The Bin
Once there lived an old man and old woman. The old man said,
"Old woman, bake me a bun."
"What can I make it from? I have no flour." "Eh, eh, old woman! Scrape the cupboard, sweep the flour bin, and you will find enough flour."
The old woman picked up a duster, scraped the cupboard, swept the flour bin and gathered about two handfuls of flour.
She mixed the dough with sour cream, fried it in butter, and put the bun on the window sill to cool. The bun lay and lay there. Suddenly it rolled off the window sill to the bench, from the bench to the floor, from the floor to the door. Then it rolled over the threshold to the entrance hall, from the entrance hall to the porch, from the porch to the courtyard, from the courtyard trough the gate and on and on.
The bun rolled along the road and met a hare.
"Little bun, little bun, I shall eat you up!" said the hare. "Don't eat me, slant-eyed hare! I will sing you a song," said the bun, and sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
Fried in butter,
And coolled on the sill.
I got away from Grandpa,
I got away from Grandma
And I'll get away from you, hare!
And the bun rolled away before the hare even saw it move!
The bun rolled on and met a wolf.
"Little bun, little bun, I shall eat you up," said the wolf.
"Don't eat me, gray wolf!" said the bun. "I will sing you a song." And the bun sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
Fried in butter,
And coolled on the sill.
I got away from Grandpa,
I got away from Grandma
I got away from the hare,
And I'll get away from you, gray wolf!
And the bun rolled away before the wolf even saw it move!
The bun rolled on and met a bear.
"Little bun, little bun, I shall eat you up," the bear said.
"You will not, pigeon toes!"
And the bun sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
Fried in butter,
And coolled on the sill.
I got away from Grandpa,
I got away from Grandma
I got away from the hare,
I got away from the wolf,
And I'll get away from you, big bear!
And again the bun rolled away before the bear even saw it move!
The bun rolled and rolled and met a fox.
"Hello, little bun, how nice yor are!" said the fox.
And the bun sang:
I was scraped from the cupboard,
Swept from the bin,
Kneaded with sour cream,
Fried in butter,
And coolled on the sill.
I got away from Grandpa,
I got away from Grandma,
I got away from the hare,
I got away from the wolf,
I got away from bear,
And I'll get away from you, old fox!
"What a wonderful song!" said the fox. "But little bun, I have became old now and hard of hearing. Come sit on my snout and sing your song again a little louder."
The bun jumped up on the fox's snout and sang the same song.
"Thank you, little bun, that was a wonderful song. I'd like to hear it again. Come sit on my tongue and sing it for the last time," said the fox, sticking out her tongue.
The bun foolishly jumped onto her tongue and- snatch! - she ate it.
