Page:The Pentamerone, or The Story of Stories.djvu/188

162 of, first of all asked whose son this prince was, and then if there was any hope of cure for his accident. And the fox replied, that the birds had said his father was the king of Big Valley, and that there was no other secret for stopping the holes in his skull, to prevent his soul getting out at them, than to anoint his wounds with the blood of those very birds who had been telling the story. When Grannonia heard these words, she fell down on her knees to the fox, entreating of him to oblige her by catching those birds for her, that she might get their blood; adding, that then, like honest comrades, they would share the gain. "Fair and softly," said the fox, "let us wait till night, and when the birds are gone to bed, let your mammy alone, for I will climb up the tree and weasen them one after another."

So they passed the whole day, talking one time of the beauty of the young prince, then of the mistake made by the maiden's father, then of the mishap that had befallen the prince, chatting and chatting away till Day was gone, and Earth had spread out her large black piece of pasteboard, to collect the wax that might drop from the tapers of Night. Then the fox, as soon as he saw all the birds fast asleep on the branches, stole up quite softly, and, one after another, throttled all the linnets, larks, tomtits, blackbirds, woodpeckers, thrushes,