Now, what the animals saw was not anything beautiful or wonderful, but just the same old gray fox, with his back bald in patches, his legs trembling and his body twisted crooked by the weight of nine stiff yellow tails that stuck out behind him. And the more they looked at him the funnier figure he cut. As he ended his proud speech he tried to spread his magnificent tails and strut as he had seen the peacock do, but he toppled over backward and kicked and squirmed in his efforts to get on his feet again. At this the animals set up a shout that echoed through the forest. The monkey laughed until he had to hold on to the limb of a tree by his tail to keep from falling off, the bear grinned at first and then let out loud ha! ha’s! the hen cackled, the owls whoo-ed, the crickets chirped, the pigeons coo-ed with such glee they gurgled and choked, the rooster crowed, the parrot shrieked, the peafowl screamed, the ducks squawked, the frogs croaked and young Luxuriant-Thick-Mud-Master bellowed until the earth shook. The fox was at first dazed. Then he thought that he was so marvelous an object they had all gone crazy at the sight of him, and he waited for them to come to their senses. When they had quieted down a bit he said scornfully: “Foolish things of the wood, I am not going to hurt you. If you obey me I shall treat you kindly. But you must find me the daintiest food and carry me everywhere I wish to go. Now hurry and get me my breakfast.” But the animals saw that a fox with nine golden tails was but a helpless thing, not as much to be feared as the spry and snappy old fellow they had known for so many years. So some of them laughed and some of them sat down to watch him. “Obey me!” he screamed, his tongue hanging out with rage. “There never before was anything made like me.” “No, because you are useless,” said the tortoise. “A fox with nine golden tails is the greatest thing in the world,” he went on, not noticing the tortoise. “How do we know they are not brass tails?” asked the owl, and winked wisely. “And who is going to keep them polished?” asked the practical ant, who was known as a good housekeeper. “Who? Who-oo?” hooted the owl. “Not I,” said the grasshopper promptly, for he was afraid of work. The fox, puzzled, helpless and angry, could only grit his teeth and glare at them. A spider, remembering how he had killed her whole family with a blow of his paw, crept up and stung his leg, the wee soft rabbits that he knew were such toothsome dainties hopped around him and laid back their pretty pink ears and sniffed, the fat and fuzzy little chickens, who had been taught to hide under mother’s wing and hold their breath when he came in sight, now flapped their baby wings under his very nose and then ran away and cried “peep! peep!” at him, and the monkey giggled and threw a nut that hit one of his fine tails a sounding whack.