ed away the little house. Godmother Fox began to lament, when
along came a dog, barking, that said to her: "What are you crying
about?" She answered: "Godmother Goat has carried off my house!" "Be
quiet. I will make her give it back to you." So the dog went and said to
Godmother Goat: "Give the house back to Godmother Fox." The goat
answered: "I am Godmother Goat. I have a sword at my side, and with my
horns I will tear you in pieces." When the dog heard that, he went away.

[Footnote O: _Cummari Vurpidda_ (diminutive of Fox).]

[Footnote P: _Cummari Crapazza_ (diminutive of Goat).]

Then a sheep passed by and said to the little fox: "What are you crying
about?" and she told her the same thing. Then the sheep went to
Godmother Goat and began to reprove her. The goat made the same answer
she had made the dog, and the sheep went away in fright.

In short, all sorts of animals went to the goat, with the same result.
Among others the mouse went and said to the little fox: "What are you
crying about?" "Godmother Goat has carried off my house." "Be still. I
will make her give it back to you." So the mouse went and said to
Godmother Goat: "Give Godmother Fox her house back right away." The goat
answered: "I am Godmother Goat. I have a sword at my side, and with my
fist and with my horns I will smash you!" The mouse answered at once: "I
am Godfather Mouse. By my side I have a spit. I will heat it in the fire
and stick it in your tail."

* * * * *

The inference of course is that Godmother Goat gave back the house. The
story does not say so, but ends with the usual formula:

Story told, story written,
Tell me yours, for mine is said.

Pitre (No. 133) gives another version in which a goat gets under a nun's
bed and she calls on her neighbors, a dog, pig, and cricket, to put the
goat out. The cricket alone succeeds, with a threat similar to that in
the last story.

In the Neapolitan version (Imbriani, _Dodici Conti Pomiglianesi_, p.
273) an old woman, in sweeping the church, found a piece of money and,
like the sexton in the story of "The Sexton's Nose," did not know what
to buy with it. At last she bought some flour and made a hasty-pudding
of it. She left it on the table and went again to church, but forgot to
close the window. While she was gone a herd of goats came along, and one
smelled the pudding, climbed in at the window, and ate it up. When the
old woman came back and tried