John did not require a second bidding, for the noise that came through the window, the moment it was opened, wakened him up completely. With one bound he was on the floor; with another he was at the window, where his wife leaned so far out that it was quite a wonder she did not fall over. She flourished a candle in her right hand and shook her fist at the flying fox, while her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed with anger. The candle was of little use indeed, for, in her rage, she struck it agamst the window sill which put it out, broke it across the middle, and sent the snuffers tumbling down into the garden. But this did not matter, for there was no need of a candle while the moon was shining brightly in the sky, and laughing at Mrs. Slipper-slopper till it nearly cried.

As for poor John, he could do nothing but gaze with amazement at the impudent fox, which could be clearly seen, galloping over the fields, with the gray goose in its mouth, and the black duck across its back.