The Fox and the Crane

The fox loved a good joke, as long as it was on someone else. One day he asked the crane to supper, and he made bean soup. He poured it into a wide, flat stone dish, so thin that it barely covered the bottom.

"Do help yourself," he said.

The crane dipped in her long bill. Tap. The soup ran away from her. She tried again. Tap. Not one mouthful would stay in. And all the while the fox lapped and licked and laughed. She went home hungry.

A few days later, the crane asked the fox to supper. She set before him a tall jar with a long, narrow neck, and out of it came the most wonderful smell. "Do help yourself," she said.

She slid her bill down the neck and ate slowly, taking all the time she liked. The fox licked the outside of the jar. He pushed his nose at the top. He stood up on his back legs and walked all the way round it. He could smell every bite, and he could not taste one.

He went home hungry.