WHEN the Geese had blown him with all the winds they could find handy, they left him lying half dead on the Green. And there he might have lain till to-day, if the sound a of his brothers’ voices had not brought him round a little. But hearing that they were off again to see some more of the world, he caught hold of the last one’s bushy tail, and away he hobbled with them.

“Come along,” cried Sharpnose. “Let us go and catch Graynose the Wolf in a trap, and then we shall have his fine house to live in.

On they plodded, all the day, in the mud and in the mire. The thicker the mud the harder they plodded on, till at last they found

and there by the side stood the Wolf’s fine house, and Graynose himself looking out of the window.

“Hallo!” growled the Wolf. “You have been in the mud. Where do you come from?”

“From the other end of the world where the Lambs are laid,” replied Sharpnose, and the twelve echoed what he said, as usual; but Redlegs, he said nothing.

“What song can you sing?” asked Graynose the Wolf.

“Ba — a — aa!” sang Sharpnose and the twelve after him.

“Aha! but what do you sing?” the Wolf called out to Redlegs.

“Bow — ow — ow!” barked Redlegs as loudly as he could.

“I see, I see. We must look sharp after you,” said the Wolf; and then, turning to the others, “Wait while I put on my boots, and I will come and hear you.” You may be pretty sure he went off in a hurry to find his best boots, for if there was one song that the Wolf liked better than another it was the cheerful ditty of “Ba — a- — aa.”

But while he was putting his boots on, what did the thirteen Foxes do but dig a deep pit outside the threshold of the door? So that when Graynose came out in a bustle to hear them sing down he went, head foremost, into the hole, and so they caught him nicely.

Well, after this they had Graynose the Wolf's fine house all to themselves, and lived in it quite merrily. They ate and drank of his best, they laughed at his groans, they sang to him anything but “Ba — a — aa,” and, what teased him most of all, they wore his shiny boots until they were quite down at heel; but all the Wolf could do was to cry, “Oh, dear! here I am, all alone in this pit, with no one near to help me.” Poor fellow! He would have died of hunger if it had not been for Redlegs, who every day brought  him all the bones he could spare out of his own plate.

But one fine afternoon, when the sun shone brightly, the thirteen Foxes went out for a walk, and then the cunning Wolf, who had heard them as they passed over the pit, after waiting till they were out of hearing, called up to Redlegs:

“Old Fox,” cried he, “pray help me up for a minute to stretch my legs. I can easily enough slip down again before your brothers come back.”

“Well, then, jump up,” said the Fox, who thought everyone spoke truth but the Foxes, and up he lifted him.

“Gr-r-r!” growled Graynose, as soon as he found himself at liberty. Gr-r-r — rr!” and flew at poor Redlegs' throat. “Gr-r-r-ow!” howled he. “You are the fellow that barks, I see. He that barks may bite. I shall pull all your teeth out.”

So he pulled all the poor blind Fox's teeth out, and, after that, not knowing any better use for him, threw him head over heels into

 And I must tell you it was lucky for the thirteen that the Wolf was so busy, for just then they came in sight; but, finding how matters stood, they never waited to help poor Redlegs, but started off on a run as fast as their legs would carry them.