him; and thus,
with many ceremonious flourishes, he was passed along the circle, always
approaching the fire, where a huge cauldron stood, in which the good
cheer was still cooking. The fox was by no means unwilling to occupy the
highest place in the assembly, and, besides, he was anxious to take a
peep into the kettle, for he had his suspicions that he might be
disappointed of the delicacies he had been expecting.

So, by degrees, he was ushered nearer and nearer the great blazing
fire, until by a dexterous push and shove he was hoisted into the
seething kettle.

His feet were dreadfully scalded, but he leaped out, and ran home to his
lodge, howling and crying with pain. His grandmother, with whom,
according to the custom of animals, he lived, demanded of him an account
of the affair. When he had faithfully related all the circumstances
(for, unlike the civilized animals, he did not think of telling his
grandmother a story), she reproved him very strongly.

"You have committed two great faults," said she. "In the first place,
you were very rude to the chief who was so kind as to invite you, and by
returning insult for civility you made yourself enemies who were
determined to punish you. In the next place, it was very unbecoming in
you to be so forward to take the place of honor. Had you been contented
modestly to keep your seat near the door, you would have escaped the
misfortune that has befallen you."

All this was not very consolatory to the poor fox, who continued to
whine and cry most piteously, while his grandmother, having finished her
lecture, proceeded to bind up his wounds. Great virtue is supposed to be
added to all medical prescriptions and applications by a little dancing;
so, the dressing having been applied, the grandmother fell to dancing
with all her might, round and round in the lodge.

When she was nearly exhausted, the fox said, "Grandmother, take off the
bandages and see if my legs are healed."

She did as he requested, but no--the burns were still fresh. She danced
and danced again. Now and then, as he grew impatient, she would remove
the coverings to observe the effect of the remedies. At length, towards
morning, she looked, and, to be sure, the burns were quite healed. "But,
oh!" cried she, "your legs are as black as a coal! They were so badly
burned that they will never return to their color!"

The poor fox, who, like many another brave, was vain of his legs, fell
into a transport of la