TheWolfandtheLamb

　　OnceuponatimeaWolfwaslappingataspringonahillside,when,lookingup,whatshouldheseebutaLambjustbeginningtodrinkalittlelowerdown.‘There’smysupper,’thoughthe,‘ifonlyIcanfindsomeexcusetoseizeit.’ThenhecalledouttotheLamb,‘HowdareyoumuddlethewaterfromwhichIamdrinking?’

　　‘Nay,master,nay,’saidLambikin;‘ifthewaterbemuddyupthere,Icannotbethecauseofit,foritrunsdownfromyoutome.’

　　‘Well,then,’saidtheWolf,‘whydidyoucallmebadnamesthistimelastyear?’

　　‘Thatcannotbe,’saidtheLamb;‘Iamonlysixmonthsold.’

　　‘Idon’tcare,’snarledtheWolf;‘ifitwasnotyouitwasyourfather;’andwiththatherusheduponthepoorlittleLamband.WARRAWARRAWARRAWARRAWARRA.ateherallup.Butbeforeshediedshegaspedout.’Anyexcusewillserveatyrant.’