THE LITTLE FOXES.
“So, when they got to the top of the hill, Bruno opened the hamper: and
he took out the Bread, and the Apples, and the Milk: and they ate, and
they drank. And when they’d finished the Milk, and eaten half the Bread
and half the Apples, the Lamb said ‘Oh, my paws is so sticky! I want to
wash my paws!’ And the Lion said ‘Well, go down the hill, and wash them
in the brook, yonder. We’ll wait for you!’”
“It never comed back!” Bruno solemnly whispered to me.
But Sylvie overheard him. “You’re not to whisper, Bruno! It spoils the
story! And when the Lamb had been gone a long time, the Lion said to
Bruno ‘Do go and see after that silly little Lamb! It must have lost its
way.’ And Bruno went down the hill. And when he got to the brook, he saw
the Lamb sitting on the bank: and who should be sitting by it but an old
Fox!”
“Don’t know who _should_ be sitting by it,” Bruno said thoughtfully to
himself. “A old Fox _were_ sitting by it.”
“And the old Fox were saying,” Sylvie went on, for once conceding the
grammatical point, “‘Yes, my dear, you’ll be ever so happy with us, if
you’ll only come and see us! I’ve got three little Foxes there, and we
do love little Lambs so dearly!’ And the Lamb said ‘But you never _eat_
them, do you, Sir?’ And the Fox said ‘Oh, no! What, _eat_ a Lamb? We
never _dream_ of doing such a thing!’ So the Lamb said ‘Then I’ll come
with you.’ And off they went, hand in hand.”
“That Fox were welly extremely wicked, _weren’t_ it?” said Bruno.
“No, no!” said Sylvie, rather shocked at such violent language. “It
wasn’t quite so bad as that!”
“Well, I mean, it wasn’t nice,” the little fellow corrected himself.
“And so Bruno went back to the Lion. ‘Oh, come quick!’ he said. ‘The Fox
has taken the Lamb to his house with him! I’m _sure_ he means to eat
it!’ And the Lion said ‘I’ll come as quick as ever I can!’ And they
trotted down the hill.”
“Do oo think he caught the Fox, Mister Sir?” said Bruno. I shook my
head, not liking to speak: and Sylvie went on.
“And when they got to the house, Bruno looked in at the window. And
there he saw the three little Foxes sitting round the table, with their
clean pinafores on, and spoons in their hands——”
“Spoons in their hands!” Bruno repeated in an ecstasy of delight.
“And the Fox had got a great big knife—all ready to kill the poor little
Lamb——” (“Oo needn’t be flightened, Mister Sir!” Bruno put in, in a
hasty whisper.)
[Illustration: ‘ENTER THE LION’]
“And just as he was going to do it, Bruno heard a great ROAR——” (The
real Bruno put his hand into mine, and held tight), “and the Lion came
_bang_ through the door, and the next moment it had bitten off the old
Fox’s head! And Bruno jumped in at the window, and went leaping round
the room, and crying out ‘Hooray! Hooray! The old Fox is dead! The old
Fox is dead!’”
Bruno got up in some excitement. “May I do it now?” he enquired.
Sylvie was quite decided on this point. “Wait till afterwards,” she
said. “The speeches come next, don’t you know? You always love the
speeches, _don’t_ you?”
“Yes, I doos,” said Bruno: and sat down again.
“The Lion’s speech. ‘Now, you silly little Lamb, go home to your mother,
and never listen to old Foxes again. And be very good and obedient.’
“The Lamb’s speech. ‘Oh, indeed, Sir, I will, Sir!’ and the Lamb went
away.” (“But _oo_ needn’t go away!” Bruno explained. “It’s quite the
nicest part—what’s coming now!” Sylvie smiled. She liked having an
appreciative audience.)
“The Lion’s speech to Bruno. ‘Now, Bruno, take those little Foxes home
with you, and teach them to be good obedient little Foxes! Not like that
wicked old thing there, that’s got no head!’” (“That hasn’t got no
head,” Bruno repeated.)
“Bruno’s speech to the Lion. ‘Oh, indeed, Sir, I will, Sir!’ And the
Lion went away.” (“It gets betterer and betterer, now,” Bruno whispered
to me, “right away to the end!”)
“Bruno’s speech to the little Foxes. ‘Now, little Foxes, you’re going to
have your first lesson in being good. I’m going to put you into the
hamper, along with the Apples and the Bread: and you’re not to eat the
Apples: and you’re not to eat the Bread: and you’re not to eat
_anything_——till we get to my house: and then you’ll have your supper.’
“The little Foxes’ speech to Bruno. The little Foxes said nothing.
“So Bruno put the Apples into the hamper—and the little Foxes—and the
Bread——” (“They had picnicked all the Milk,” Bruno explained in a
whisper) “—and he set off to go to his house.” (“We’re getting near the
end now,” said Bruno.)
“And, when he had got a little way, he thought he would look into the
hamper, and see how the little Foxes were getting on.”
“So he opened the door——” said Bruno.
“Oh, Bruno!” Sylvie exclaimed, “_you’re_ not telling the story! So he
opened the door, and behold, there were no Apples! So Bruno said ‘Eldest
little Fox, have _you_ been eating the Apples?’ And the eldest little
Fox said ‘No no no!’” (It is impossible to give the tone in which Sylvie
repeated this rapid little ‘No no no!’ The nearest I can come to it is
to say that it was much as if a young and excited duck had tried to
quack the words. It was too quick for a quack, and yet too harsh to be
anything else.) “Then he said ‘Second little Fox, have _you_ been eating
the Apples?’ And the second little Fox said ‘No no no!’ Then he said
‘Youngest little Fox, have _you_ been eating the Apples?’ And the
youngest little Fox _tried_ to say ‘No no no!’ but its mouth was so
full, it couldn’t, and it only said ‘Wauch! Wauch! Wauch!’ And Bruno
looked into its mouth. And its mouth was full of Apples! And Bruno shook
his head, and he said ‘Oh dear, oh dear! What bad creatures these Foxes
are!’”
Bruno was listening intently: and, when Sylvie paused to take breath, he
could only just gasp out the words “About the Bread?”
“Yes,” said Sylvie, “the Bread comes next. So he shut the door again;
and he went a little further; and then he thought he’d just peep in once
more. And behold, there was no Bread!” (“What do ‘behold’ _mean_?” said
Bruno. “Hush!” said Sylvie.) “And he said ‘Eldest little Fox, have _you_
been eating the Bread?’ And the eldest little Fox said ‘No no no!’
‘Second little Fox, have _you_ been eating the Bread?’ And the second
little Fox only said ‘Wauch! Wauch! Wauch!’ And Bruno looked into its
mouth, and its mouth was full of Bread!” (“It might have chokeded it,”
said Bruno.) “So he said ‘Oh dear, oh dear! What _shall_ I do with these
Foxes?’ And he went a little further.” (“Now comes the most interesting
part,” Bruno whispered.)
“And when Bruno opened the hamper again, what do you think he saw?”
(“Only _two_ Foxes!” Bruno cried in a great hurry.) “You shouldn’t tell
it so quick. However, he _did_ see only _two_ Foxes. And he said ‘Eldest
little Fox, have you been eating the youngest little Fox?’ And the
eldest little Fox said ‘No no no!’ ‘Second little Fox, have _you_ been
eating the youngest little Fox?’ And the second little Fox did its very
best to say ‘No no no!’ but it could only say ‘Weuchk! Weuchk! Weuchk!’
And when Bruno looked into its mouth, it was half full of Bread, and
half full of Fox!” (Bruno said nothing in the pause this time. He was
beginning to pant a little, as he knew the crisis was coming.)
“And when he’d got nearly home, he looked once more into the hamper, and
he saw——”
“Only——” Bruno began, but a generous thought struck him, and he looked
at me. “_Oo_ may say it, _this_ time, Mister Sir!” he whispered. It was
a noble offer, but I wouldn’t rob him of the treat. “Go on, Bruno,” I
said, “you say it much the best.” “Only—but—_one_—Fox!” Bruno said with
great solemnity.
[Illustration: ‘WHIHUAUCH! WHIHUAUCH!’]
“‘Eldest little Fox,’” Sylvie said, dropping the narrative-form in her
eagerness, “‘you’ve been _so_ good that I can hardly believe _you’ve_
been disobedient: but I’m _afraid_ you’ve been eating your little
sister?’ And the eldest little Fox said ‘Whihuauch! Whihuauch!’ and then
it choked. And Bruno looked into its mouth, and it _was_ full!” (Sylvie
paused to take breath, and Bruno lay back among the daisies, and looked
at me triumphantly. “Isn’t it _grand_, Mister Sir?” said he. I tried
hard to assume a critical tone. “It’s grand,” I said: “but it frightens
one so!” “Oo may sit a little closer to _me_, if oo like,” said Bruno.)
“And so Bruno went home: and took the hamper into the kitchen, and
opened it. And he saw——” Sylvie looked at _me_, this time, as if she
thought I had been rather neglected and ought to be allowed _one_ guess,
at any rate.
“He ca’n’t guess!” Bruno cried eagerly. “I ’fraid I _must_ tell him!
There weren’t—_nuffin_ in the hamper!” I shivered in terror, and Bruno
clapped his hands with delight. “He _is_ flightened, Sylvie! Tell the
rest!”
“So Bruno said ‘Eldest little Fox, have you been eating _yourself_, you
wicked little Fox?’ And the eldest little Fox said ‘Whihuauch!’ And then
Bruno saw there was only its _mouth_ in the hamper! So he took the
mouth, and he opened it, and shook, and shook! And at last he shook the
little Fox out of its own mouth! And then he said ‘Open your mouth
again, you wicked little thing!’ And he shook, and shook! And he shook
out the second little Fox! And he said ‘Now open _your_ mouth!’ And he
shook, and shook! And he shook out the youngest little Fox, and all the
Apples, and all the Bread!
“And then Bruno stood the little Foxes up against the wall: and he made
them a little speech. ‘Now, little Foxes, you’ve begun very wickedly—and
you’ll have to be punished. First you’ll go up to the nursery, and wash
your faces, and put on clean pinafores. Then you’ll hear the bell ring
for supper. Then you’ll come down: and _you won’t have any supper_: but
you’ll have a good _whipping_! Then you’ll go to bed. Then in the
morning you’ll hear the bell ring for breakfast. _But you won’t have any
breakfast!_ You’ll have a good _whipping_! Then you’ll have your
lessons. And, perhaps, if you’re _very_ good, when dinner-time comes,
you’ll have a little dinner, and no more whipping!’” (“How _very_ kind
he was!” I whispered to Bruno. “_Middling_ kind,” Bruno corrected me
gravely.)
“So the little Foxes ran up to the nursery. And soon Bruno went into the
hall, and rang the big bell. ‘Tingle, tingle, tingle! Supper, supper,
supper!’ Down came the little Foxes, in such a hurry for their supper!
Clean pinafores! Spoons in their hands! And, when they got into the
dining-room, there was ever such a white table-cloth on the table! But
there was nothing on it but a big whip. And they had _such_ a whipping!”
(I put my handkerchief to my eyes, and Bruno hastily climbed upon my
knee and stroked my face. “Only _one_ more whipping, Mister Sir!” he
whispered. “Don’t cry more than oo ca’n’t help!”)
“And the next morning early, Bruno rang the big bell again. ‘Tingle,
tingle, tingle! Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast!’ Down came the little
Foxes! Clean pinafores! Spoons in their hands! No breakfast! Only the
big whip! Then came lessons,” Sylvie hurried on, for I still had my
handkerchief to my eyes. “And the little Foxes were ever so good! And
they learned their lessons backwards, and forwards, and upside-down. And
at last Bruno rang the big bell again. ‘Tingle, tingle, tingle! Dinner,
dinner, dinner!’ And when the little Foxes came down——” (“Had they clean
pinafores on?” Bruno enquired. “Of course!” said Sylvie. “And spoons?”
“Why, you _know_ they had!” “Couldn’t be _certain_,” said Bruno.) “—they
came as slow as slow! And they said ‘Oh! There’ll be no dinner! There’ll
only be the big whip!’ But, when they got into the room, they saw the
most _lovely_ dinner!” (“Buns?” cried Bruno, clapping his hands.) “Buns,
and cake, and——” (“—and jam?” said Bruno.) “Yes, jam—and soup—and——”
(“—and _sugar plums_!” Bruno put in once more; and Sylvie seemed
satisfied.)
“And ever after that, they _were_ such good little Foxes! They did their
lessons as good as gold—and they never did what Bruno told them not
to—and they never ate each other any more—and _they never ate
themselves_!”
The story came to an end so suddenly, it almost took my breath away;
however I did my best to make a pretty speech of thanks. “I’m sure it’s
very—very—very much so, I’m sure!” I seemed to hear myself say.