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 with it, so that, streaming with blood, the Wolf ran back to the Fox.

‘Well, brother Wolf,’ said the Fox, ‘and how did you get on with the Man?’

‘Alas!’ said the Wolf. ‘I never thought the strength of man would be what it is. First, he took a stick from his shoulder, and blew into it, and something flew into my face, which tickled frightfully. Then he blew into it again, and it flew into my eyes and nose like lightning and hail. Then he drew a shining rib out of his body, and struck at me with it till I was more dead than alive.’

‘Now, you see,’ said the Fox, ‘what a braggart you are. You throw your hatchet so far that you can’t get it back again.’