BUT after a while, when these young Foxes wanted to see the world, they came to the Lion. “King Lion,” said they, “pray give us leave to travel: we will be sure to come back again some day.”

“If you are sure you will come back again,” said the Lion, “you may go; but I wish you would take that brother of yours with you.”

They did not mind, so Redlegs was released, and off they went together. Of course, they dug up the Lion’s gold, and with it they bought all the nice things they could think of, as soon as they came to the first town on the road. They went to the tailor’s and ordered the finest clothes, to the hatter’s for the small caps with the longest feathers, and then, to be smartest of the smart, they called on the bootmaker and were measured for the tightest boots ever worn.

They put up at the best inn in the town; they feasted on roast goose every day, and drank the best of wine; they slept in the best bed. Yet, withal, they made Redlegs their servant, and starved him into the bargain; they fed him upon rinds and parings, and odds and ends, and gave him all the dirty work to do.

But one fine morning, the Foxes found that they had spent all their gold.

“Turn out,” said the landlord of their inn; “we’ll have no beggars here.” And out he turned them.

So, without house and home, they began to get hungry again: where to get a good meal, none of them knew.

“Come along,” said Sharpnose, “let us call on Old Keeper the Dog. He has plenty of sheep — perhaps we may eat some.”
 

 “Yes, we must eat some,” said the twelve; but Redlegs, he said nothing.

Off they tramped to the Dog’s house, and a very long way they found it. They walked and walked, and it rained very fast; but they walked and walked all the day long. Wet to the skin, and as tired as could be, they came to

and the Dog’s house was there. They found Old Keeper with his crook in his hand, looking very surly, and minding his sheep.

“Hullo,” said he; “and pray, where do you come from?”

“We come from the other end of the world where the Sheep grow,” said Sharpnose, “and we are tired and hungry.”

“Tired and hungry,” sighed the twelve; but Redlegs, he said nothing.

“What do you eat?” asked Old Keeper.

“Turnip-tops,” said Sharpnose.

“Turnip-tops,” said the twelve in a breath.

“And what do you eat?” asked the Dog of the eldest Fox.

“Well, I eat sheep,” said Redlegs.

“Oh, indeed!” sneered the Dog. “Then I must look after you.”

He took them in, he gave them all a good supper, and the next morning set Sharpnose and the twelve to mind the sheep, but Redlegs to cook the dinner, lest he should get into mischief

However, a day or two after, the Dog had to take a flock of sheep to market. Off he went at break of day, so that he might be all in good time, leaving no one at home to see after the place but the fourteen Foxes. Thirteen were minding the sheep, while Redlegs was scouring out the saucepan.

As soon as Old Keeper the Dog was out of sight, said Sharpnose to the twelve:

“Let us eat up all the sheep, and then go to bed. The Dog will not think it is us, for he knows that we only like turnip-tops.”

So the thirteen Foxes killed all the sheep but one; and, what is more, they ate up all they had killed.

They picked every bone but one, and that which was a very lean shank-bone — they threw to poor Redlegs, just to keep him quiet while they went to sleep, and all the thirteen trotted off to bed directly.

But by-and-by night came, and the old Dog returned. When he looked round, he found them all snoring but Redlegs.

“Where are my sheep?” he cried. But nobody knew anything about them.

“I will soon find out!” barked the Dog in a great passion. “Come here, you fourteen Foxes. Now, what have you been eating? Tell me at once.”

“We have had nothing but turnip-tops,” said Sharpnose and those other twelve story-tellers, his brothers.

But when Old Keeper the Dog turned round to see what Redlegs had been eating, he cast his eye on the shank-bone, which Redlegs had never even thought of eating.

“Oh, oh!” barked the Dog. “That is the way my sheep have gone, is it? Here, you other dogs, throw him into the tub where the rain is kept. He has lost one ear, so cut off the other directly!”

Poor Redlegs cried out in a loud voice that he had never touched the sheep, but, as they did not believe him, he might just as well have held his tongue, for they carried him off, and

 and they blew both his eyes out!