uld have killed the goose and eaten
it himself, do you?" asked the fox with a grin.

"Well," answered Puss, startled at the sudden appearance of Mr. Fox, "I
thought it pretty mean of you to steal his goose, but now that I've
found out what a foolish man Mr. Slipper-Slopper is, I'm glad you have a
good dinner in store for yourself and family."

"That's very nice of you," said Mr. Fox, with another grin.

"Neither have I forgotten that you helped me out of the forest,"
continued Puss, "and I feel very friendly toward you."

"If that's the case," said the fox in a kind voice, "you come home with
me and Mrs. Fox will give you some of the best roast duck you ever
tasted in your life."

ROAST DUCK

PUSS, JUNIOR, accepted the invitation of Mr. Fox to dine, for he was
hungry, and the very thought of roast duck for supper made his mouth
water.

"Thank you, Mister Fox," he answered. "Let me carry the duck for
you--the goose is enough of a load!"

"You are right," replied the fox, handing the duck to Puss. "It was a
hard run up that hill. If I had known the farmer better, however, I
wouldn't have hurried so."

"Well, lead the way, and I'll follow," said Puss.

"At last the fox got home to his den;
To his dear little foxes, eight, nine, ten,
Says he, 'you're in luck, here's a good fat duck,
With her legs hanging dangling down.'"

"This is Puss in Boots, Junior," he said, turning to his good wife, Mrs.
Fox. "He has carried the duck for me, for I have a big fat goose."

Then Mrs. Fox asked Puss to sit down and rest while she cooked the
supper, and the little foxes begged him to tell them a story.

"What kind of a story do you like?" asked Puss.

[Illustration]

"Tell them how I crept into the hen-house and got away from old Mr.
Slipper-Slopper," said Mr. Fox. "You keep them quiet and I'll pluck off
the feathers while Mrs. Fox heats the oven. Then we'll lose no time in
roasting the duck."

"All right," replied Puss, "I'll tell them about it," and as soon as Mr.
Fox went out of the room Puss commenced.

"Your father and I crept softly into the barnyard and then your daddy
tiptoed into the hen-house and said to Madam Goose: 'By your leave, I'll
take you away and carry you home to my den Oh!' I'm not quite sure
whether he or Madam Goose said 'Oh!' but that doesn't make any
difference."

"I think it must have been Madam Goose," said a little fox. "I think she
was