A SHEPHERD was feeding his flock on the hills; and as they were going
home again in the evening, one of the goats lagged behind. Now, this
Goat was very old, and goats are not like men, for the older they grow
the wiser they become. So this Goat, being very old indeed, was also
very wise. There was a very nice clump of grass by the wayside, and the
wise old Goat said to herself, "Here is the nicest grass I have seen for
a long time. I'm not hungry, because I have been eating all day; but I
daresay I shall soon be hungry again, so I had better eat it while I can
get it." And accordingly she set to work, and very soon she had eaten it
all up. Then she trotted off homeward.
As the old Goat went merrily trotting along, with her eyes on the
ground, suddenly she looked up--and lo and behold! a huge Wolf sitting
on a stump, and staring at her hungrily! What was she to do? To escape
was impossible. She pulled her wits together, and began--
"Oh, my dear Mr. Wolf!" cried she, "how delighted I am to see you. I
have been looking for you all day, and now I've found you at last."
The Wolf was so utterly astonished that he had not a word to say at
first. But after a while, he found his tongue, and thus said he--
"My good Goat, you must be out of your senses. Why, I'm accustomed to
feed on goats, and here you say you are glad to see me. Who ever heard
of a creature so foolish as to throw itself into the jaws of death of
its own free will?"
"Ah," replied the Goat, "you don't know my Shepherd, that's quite clear.
He is the kindest man in the world, and he has a special weakness for
you. He was talking of you only this morning, and saying that he owes
you a good turn for not gobbling up any of his sheep, though it is ever
so long since he began to feed them in your forest. So he has sent me to
you as a token of his esteem. I'm an old Goat, you see, and not much use
to him now. 'No _ifs_ and _buts_,' says he to me--'off with you, and let
kind Mr. Wolf eat you for his dinner.' And so here I am. And indeed, you
must not suppose I am here against my will; not at all. I could not
think of disobeying our good Shepherd. And, if I did, he could sell me
to the butcher, to have my throat cut, and be eaten by horrid beasts of
men, who have only two legs to bless themselves with. I assure you, I
much prefer being eaten by a noble four-legged gentleman like yourself."
Our Wolf was still so surprised that he could find nothing to say; and
the Goat went on--
"Do not think, dear sir, that I am flattering you. Look at me and judge
if a respectable old Goat of my age, and at the point of death--for I
see you licking your chops--whether, I say, such a one would dare to
tell lies. But, Mr. Wolf, there is one reason why I shall be sorry to
die. You may not have heard of it, but it is true nevertheless that I am
a famous songster, and it will be indeed a pity that a gift so rare
should be lost. Will you do me one last favour, and let me sing you a
song before I die? I am sure it will delight you, and you will enjoy
eating me all the more afterwards."
The Wolf was very much pleased at the Goat's politeness. "Well," said
he, "since you are so kind as to offer, I should like to hear what you
can do in the way of music."
"All right," said our Goat, "just sit down on that hillock yonder, and
I'll stay here; it won't sound so nice if I am too near you."
The Wolf trotted off to the hillock, and sat down, and waited for the
Goat to begin her song.