"Tut, tut, neighbor," said Brother Tiger, "that is not the way to talk. Thirst is only for the gnomes and the sprites who seek the dew. As for us, the kings of this country, we must drink to divert ourselves." Feeling himself flattered and enjoying it, Daddy Sheep extended his glass. It was promptly filled and he emptied it. It was as promptly filled once more, and he emptied it again. "Here's to your health," said Brother Tiger. "And to yours, my dear host," said Daddy Sheep, and he again emptied his glass at one gulp. The more Daddy Sheep drank the gayer he became, and the louder he talked. He lost his customary reserve, but he had not yet condescended to laugh. Brother Tiger, however, continued to press wine on his guest, and it finally came to pass that Daddy Sheep sat back in his chair, and laughed in the foolish way common to those whose brains are befuddled by the fumes of liquor. Brother Tiger saw the short teeth of his guest, and, without hesitating a moment, he leaped on Daddy Sheep and strangled him. Hearing the loud outcry made by his father, the little Sheep ran as quickly as he could to his mother. "The wicked Tiger," he exclaimed, as he ran home, "has killed my father, and has no doubt devoured him!" At these terrible words the Mother Sheep almost fainted with fright, and her grief was pitiful to behold. The little Sheep joined his mother in her wailings, and the mournful noise they made attracted the attention of the Queen of the Birds, who came out of the forest and perched herself on a tree near their house. "What is the matter, good Sheep?" she asked, "and what is the cause of your grief?" "Alas, alas! Brother Tiger has devoured my poor husband!" "Ah, the infamous villain!" exclaimed the Queen of the Birds. "We will not dare to venture out any more," continued the Mother Sheep. "The vile assassin will hide around here and try to devour us also." Touched by the tears of the Mother Sheep and her son, the Queen of the Birds tried to console them the best she could, and promised them that they should be revenged, and in a moment she had flown away to the neighboring forests. She gave utterance to her well-known cry— "Pingle, pingle! Dingle, dingle!" and in a very short time her faithful subjects could be seen coming from all sides, birds of high and low degree, of bright plumage and dull—the red-breast and the white-cap, the bald eagle and the green parrots. The Queen of the Birds uttered her musical call again— "Pingle, pingle! Dingle, dingle!" And then all the smaller birds that had wandered off into the woods flew to her side, and begged to know what her wishes were. Their Queen then related to them the murder of Daddy Sheep by the hypocritical and cruel Brother Tiger. Her story was full of emotion and good feeling, and she concluded by saying: "This assassin, my faithful friends, must die in his turn. Such a monster should not be permitted to live on earth."