Part 9 (1/2)

Then came the c.o.c.k-sparrow's turn. He perched on the string and began to chirrup, ”If I am telling lies, may I fall into the well;” but hardly had he got the words out of his mouth, when--splas.h.!.+ down he went.

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Then the Hen was very sorry that she had proposed this plan; she began to weep and cheep, and said--”Alas, alas, why didn't I leave it alone?

What does it matter if he eats my dinner, so long as I have my dear husband? Now I have killed him by my folly.”

Just at that moment up came a Cat.

”What's the matter?” said the Cat.

”Cheep, cheep, cheep,” went the Hen-sparrow. ”My husband has fallen into the well, and I don't know how to get him out.”

”If I get him out,” said the Cat, ”will you let me eat him?”

”Of course you may,” said the Hen-sparrow.

So the Cat climbed down, and pulled out the c.o.c.k-sparrow. When she had brought him to the edge of the well, said she, ”Now I'm going to eat him as you promised.”

”Oh, all right,” said the Hen. ”But stop a minute, your mouth is dirty.

I am sure you have been eating mice. Now haven't you?”

”Why, yes,” said the Cat, ”so I have.”

”Well,” said the Hen-sparrow, ”you must get yourself clean. We birds are clean creatures, and you must positively wash your mouth before you begin.”

Away went the Cat, and washed her mouth clean, and came back again.

The Hen-sparrow looked at her carefully. ”You have not washed your whiskers,” said she; ”they are still dirty.”

The Cat went obediently and washed her whiskers.

Meanwhile the c.o.c.k-sparrow had been sitting on the edge of the well in the sun, and by this time his feathers were quite dry. So his Hen chirped to him, ”Now, dear, you can fly, let's be off.” And off they flew together, and the Cat was left licking her chops and wis.h.i.+ng she had not been such a fool.

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The Foolish Fish

A FISH was once flapping and flopping on the sand by the banks of a river. She was a lady Fish--how she got there I don't know; but she had been better to stay at home, as you shall hear. Well, she flapped away on the sand, and couldn't get off; she began to feel very dry. A man came by, riding upon a horse. ”O Man,” shouted the Fish, ”do carry me back to the water again, or I shall be dried up and die.”

”No, no,” said the Man, ”not I, indeed! You are a she, and I have had so much bother with shes in my life that I shall keep clear of you.”

”O dear good Man!” cried the Fish, ”do please help me, and I will promise not to behave badly; I'll be as nice as any man could be. Just think! if you leave me here, I shall dry into a stick, or somebody will come along and eat me.”

The Man scratched his head, and wondered what he ought to do; but at last he took pity on the Fish, and got down off his horse. Then he picked up the Fish and put her on his shoulder, and walked down to the water. ”Now then,” said he, ”in with you.”

”Take me into deep water,” said the Fish; ”this won't do for me.” So the good-natured fellow took her and waded into the water till he was neck-deep. Then the Fish opened her mouth wide, and said--

”Now I'm going to eat you! I'll teach you to say nasty things about women.”