“Hooray!” shouted a fat little fox, dancing on one leg before the grey goose.

“Hooray!” screamed another little fox, leaping on to its mother’s side and extending its paws to catch it.

“First-rate!” cried a third; “here’s a back to anybody that wants one.”

“Capital! O we shall feast like princes!” shouted another little fox, joyfully, “hold your head down and shoulders up; that’s it,” and, with a race and a squeal, it went leap-frog over its brother’s back and landed beside the black duck which was being almost torn in pieces by two other little foxes, one of which grasped it by the leg while the other seized it by the neck. The noise in the foxes’ den was quite tremendous,—at least so said the moon. The two baby foxes were the only quiet ones among them, being fast asleep in their mother’s arms.

“Ah! my dear husband,” said Madam Fox, “how good of you to fetch us such a nice supper.”

“Ho! ho!” chuckled Mister Fox, “isn’t it a rare one, love? and won’t we have a right good feast, eh? I took them both from Farmer Slipper-slopper.”