t it broke short off, and he
rolled away into the forest as fast as his legs could carry him. At this
sight the fox held his sides for laughing, and then scampered away in
another direction. By-and-by he came to a fir tree, and crept into a
hole under the root. After that he did something very strange.

Taking one of his hind feet between his two front paws, he said softly:

'What would you do, my foot, if someone was to betray me?'

'I would run so quickly that he should not catch you.'

'What would you do, mine ear, if someone was to betray me?'

'I would listen so hard that I should hear all his plans.'

'What would you do, my nose, if someone was to betray me?'

'I would smell so sharply that I should know from afar that he was
coming.'

'What would you do, my tail, if someone was to betray me?'

'I would steer you so straight a course that you would soon be beyond
his reach. Let us be off; I feel as if danger was near.'

But the fox was comfortable where he was, and did not hurry himself to
take his tail's advice. And before very long he found he was too late,
for the bear had come round by another path, and guessing where his
enemy was began to scratch at the roots of the tree. The fox made
himself as small as he could, but a scrap of his tail peeped out, and
the bear seized it and held it tight. Then the fox dug his claws into
the ground, but he was not strong enough to pull against the bear, and
slowly he was dragged forth and his body flung over the bear's neck. In
this manner they set out down the road, the fox's tail being always in
the bear's mouth.

After they had gone some way, they passed a tree-stump, on which a
bright coloured woodpecker was tapping.

'Ah! those were better times when I used to paint all the birds such gay
colours,' sighed the fox.

'What are you saying, old fellow?' asked the bear.

'I? Oh, I was saying nothing,' answered the fox drearily. 'Just carry me
to your cave and eat me up as quick as you can.'

The bear was silent, and thought of his supper; and the two continued
their journey till they reached another tree with a woodpecker tapping
on it.

'Ah! those were better times when I used to paint all the birds such gay
colours,' said the fox again to himself.

'Couldn't you paint me too?' asked the bear suddenly.

But the fox shook his head; for he was always acting, even if no one was
there to see him do it.

'You bear pain so badly,' he replied, in a thoughtf