foolish!' And the crow flew away,
leaving the magpie overcome with shame and sorrow.

The next morning the fox came to his usual place in front of the tree,
for he was hungry, and a nice young magpie would have suited him very
well for dinner. But this time there was no cowering, timid magpie to do
his bidding, but a bird with his head erect and a determined voice.

'My good fox,' said the magpie putting his head on one side and looking
very wise--'my good fox, if you take my advice, you will go home as fast
as you can. There is no use your talking about making snow-shoes out of
this tree, when you have neither knife nor axe to cut it down with!'

'Who has been teaching you wisdom?' asked the fox, forgetting his
manners in his surprise at this new turn of affairs.

'The crow, who paid me a visit yesterday,' answered the magpie.

'The crow was it?' said the fox, 'well, the crow had better not meet me
for the future, or it may be the worse for him.'

As Michael, the cunning beast, had no desire to continue the
conversation, he left the forest; but when he came to the high road he
laid himself at full length on the ground, stretching himself out, just
as if he was dead. Very soon he noticed, out of the corner of his eye,
that the crow was flying towards him, and he kept stiller and stiffer
than ever, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. The crow, who
wanted her supper very badly, hopped quickly towards him, and was
stooping forward to peck at his tongue when the fox gave a snap, and
caught him by the wing. The crow knew that it was of no use struggling,
so he said:

'Ah, brother, if you are really going to eat me, do it, I beg of you, in
good style. Throw me first over this precipice, so that my feathers may
be strewn here and there, and that all who see them may know that your
cunning is greater than mine.' This idea pleased the fox, for he had
not yet forgiven the crow for depriving him of the young magpies, so
he carried the crow to the edge of the precipice and threw him over,
intending to go round by a path he knew and pick him up at the bottom.
But no sooner had the fox let the crow go than he soared up into the
air, and hovering just out of teach of his enemy's jaws, he cried with a
laugh: 'Ah, fox! you know well how to catch, but you cannot keep.'

With his tail between his legs, the fox slunk into the forest. He did
not know where to look for a dinner, as he guessed that the crow would
have flown bac