“Now for the barber, my beauty!” cried the gay Jackal, when he had eaten as much as he could. Then the blushing Miss Crocodile carried him back again, and bade him be quick about his business, like a dear good creature, for really she felt so flustered at the very idea that she didn’t know what might happen. “Now don’t distress yourself, my dear!” quoth the deceitful Mr. Jackal, springing to the bank, “because it’s not impossible that I may not find the barber, and then, you know, you may have to wait some time, a considerable time in fact, before I return. So don’t injure your health for my sake, if you please.” With that he blew her a kiss, and trotted away with his tail up. Of course he never came back, though trusting Miss Crocodile waited patiently for him; at last she understood what a gay, deceitful fellow he was, and determined to have her revenge on him one way or another. So she hid herself in the water, under the roots of a tree, close to a ford where the Jackal always came to drink. By and by, sure enough, he came lilting along in a self-satisfied way, and went right into the water for a good long draft. Whereupon Miss Crocodile seized him by the right legs and held on. He guessed at once what had happened, and called out, “Oh! my heart’s adored! I’m drowning! I’m drowning! If you love me, leave hold of that old root and get a good grip of my leg—it is just next door!” Hearing this, Miss Crocodile thought she must have made a mistake, and, letting go the Jackal’s leg in a hurry, seized an old root close by, and held on. Whereupon Mr. Jackal jumped nimbly to shore, and ran off with his tail up, calling out, “Have a little patience, my beauty! The barber will come some day!” But this time Miss Crocodile knew better than to wait, and being now dreadfully angry, she crawled away to the Jackal’s hole, and, slipping inside, lay quiet. By and by Mr. Jackal came lilting along with his tail up. “Ho! ho! That is your game, is it?” said he to himself, when he saw the trail of the Crocodile in the sandy soil. So he stood outside, and said aloud, “Bless my stars! What has happened? I don’t half like to go in, for whenever I come home my wife always calls out, ‘Oh, dearest hubby hub! What have you brought for grub to me and the darling cub?’ and to-day she doesn’t say anything!” Hearing this, Miss Crocodile sang out from inside, “Oh, dearest hubby hub! What have you brought for grub To me and the darling cub?” The Jackal winked a very big wink, and, stealing in softly, stood at the doorway. Meanwhile Miss Crocodile, hearing him coming, held her breath, and lay, shamming dead, like a big log. “Bless my stars!” cried Mr. Jackal, taking out his pocket handkerchief, “how very sad! Here’s poor Miss Crocodile stone dead, and all for love of me! Dear! dear! Yet it is very odd, and I don’t think she can be quite dead, you know—for dead folks always wag their tails!”