It was indeed a terrible situation for poor Tom. But being in danger brightens one's wits, and he sprang so nimbly, this way and that, keeping clear of the chopper, that not a blow struck him, and he did not get even a scratch. However, he could not escape, there was no help for it, he was forced into a skin with the sausage meat, so was compelled to make himself as comfortable as might be. It was very close quarters, and besides that, the sausages were suspended to smoke in the chimney, which was by no means entertaining, and the time passed slowly. When winter came, he was taken down for a guest's meal, and while the hostess was slicing the sausage he had to be on his guard, lest if he stretched out his head it might be cut off. Watching his opportunity, at last he was able to jump out of the sausage, and right glad was he to be once again in the company of his fellow-men. It was not very long, however, that he stayed in this house, where he had been met by so many misfortunes, and again he set forth on his travels, rejoicing in his freedom, but this did not long continue. Swiftly running across the field came a fox, who, in an instant, had snapped up poor little Tom. "Oh, Mr. Fox," called out the little tailor, "it is I who am in your throat; please let me out." "Certainly," answered Reynard, "you are not a bit better than nothing at all, you don't in the least satisfy me; make me a promise, that I shall have the hens in your father's yard, and you shall regain your liberty." "Willingly, you shall have all the hens; I make you a faithful promise," responded Tom Thumb. So the fox coughed and set him free, and himself carried Tom home. Then when the father had his dear little son once more he gave the fox all his hens, with the greatest of pleasure. "Here, father, I am bringing you a golden coin from my travels," said the little fellow, and he brought out the ducat the thieves had apportioned to him. "But how was it that the fox was given all the poor little hens?" "Foolish little one, don't you think your father would rather have you, than all the hens he ever had in his yard?" SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED A poor widow once lived in a little cottage. In front of the cottage was a garden, in which were growing two rose trees; one of these bore white roses, and the other red. She had two children, who resembled the rose trees. One was called Snow-White, and the other Rose-Red; and they were as religious and loving, busy and untiring, as any two children ever were. Snow-White was more gentle, and quieter than her sister, who liked better skipping about the fields, seeking flowers, and catching summer birds; while Snow-White stayed at home with her mother, either helping her in her work, or, when that was done, reading aloud.