And turning round, he bolted for his hole as hard as he could. The Jackal could scarcely believe his ears, and sat dumb with astonishment. Then, rage lending him wings, he flew after the Lizard, who, despite his short legs and scanty breath, put his best foot foremost, and scuttled away at a great rate. It was a near race, however, for just as he popped into his hole, the Jackal caught him by the tail, and held on. Then it was a case of “pull, butcher; pull, baker,” until the Lizard made certain his tail must come off, and he felt as if his front teeth would come out. Still not an inch did either budge, one way or the other, and there they might have remained till the present day, had not the Iguana called out, in his sweetest tones, “Friend, I give in! Just leave hold of my tail, will you? then I can turn round and come out.” Whereupon the Jackal let go, and the tail disappeared up the hole in a twinkling; while all the reward the Jackal got for digging away until his nails were nearly worn out was hearing the Iguana sing softly— “Bones made up his dais, with mud it’s plastered o’er, Old shoes are his eardrops; a jackal, nothing more THE BEAR’S BAD BARGAIN By Flora Annie Steel Once upon a time a very old Woodman lived with his very old Wife in a tiny hut close to the orchard of a very rich man, so close that the boughs of a pear tree hung right over the cottage yard. Now it was agreed between the rich man and the Woodman that if any of the fruit fell into the yard, the old couple were to be allowed to eat it; so you may imagine with what hungry eyes they watched the pears ripening, and prayed for a storm of wind, or a flock of flying foxes, or anything which would cause the fruit to fall. But nothing came, and the old Wife, who was a grumbling, scolding old thing, declared they would infallibly become beggars. So she took to giving her husband nothing but dry bread to eat, and insisted on his working harder than ever, till the poor soul got quite thin; and all because the pears would not fall down! At last the Woodman turned round and declared he would not work more unless his Wife gave him Khichri for his dinner; so with a very bad grace the old woman took some rice and pulse, some butter and spices, and began to cook a savory Khichri. What an appetizing smell it had, to be sure! The Woodman was for gobbling it up as soon as ever it was ready. “No, no,” cried the greedy old Wife, not till you have brought me in another load of Wood; and mind it is a good one. You must work for your dinner.” So the old man set off to the forest and began to hack and to hew with such a will that he soon had quite a large bundle, and with every faggot he cut he seemed to smell the savory Khichri and think of the feast that was coming. Just then a Bear came swinging by, with its great black nose tilted in the air, and its little keen eyes peering about; for bears, though good enough fellows on the whole, are just dreadfully inquisitive.