When Isegrim, with all the trouble in the world, had carried Reinecke up into the loft, which was floored only with loose planks, then Reinecke opened all the places he had plugged up, and the water ran out of Isegrim's eyes and ears and nose and poured down through the cracks upon the wedding-guests below. The guests ran nimbly up into the loft, but Reinecke still more nimbly made his escape through the window, while Isegrim was half-beaten to death by the enraged wedding-guests and his body thrown out into the road. Then Reinecke came creeping back and taunted Isegrim. "This long time I have been wearing out shoe-leather to get the best of you, because you ate up my colt!" And with these words away he went, leaving Isegrim to his fate. "That served Isegrim right," said the little boy. "He had no business to eat up Reinecke's little colt." CHAPTER VII THE SNOWY DAY The grandmother sat in her room spinning, and singing a sad little song. Grandmother's songs were always sad, for that is the way with the songs of the Russian peasant women, whose lives are very hard. But the little boy had never heard any other kind, and he was very fond of hearing his grandmother sing. He was lying on the stove, watching her spin, for it was still snowing, and he was tired of playing alone in the court. The snow was so deep now that none of the mothers would let their little children go into the street. The big children were all at work. Only little children play every day in Russia. The big children work, except on holidays. "Do you know any more stories about Master Reinecke, little grandma?" the little boy finally asked. "Perhaps I do," replied the grandmother. "Let me see; did I ever tell you about "THE BIRD, THE FOX, AND THE DOG?" "No," said the little boy. "Do tell that, please!" So the grandmother began: Once upon a time there was a Bird which built her nest in a hedge, laid her eggs there, and began to brood over them. Now a little Fox got wind of the matter, and he thought to himself, "Aha! there's a fine breakfast for me!" So he left the Bird to brood over her eggs, waiting for the time when the young ones should hatch out. When that time came he paid a visit to the Bird, which was singing gayly in the hedge, and said to her: "Good-morning, dear cousin. Oh, how beautiful you are and how sweet is your song! But still more enticing are your young ones in the nest, and I mean to eat them up!" The little Bird answered, smiling, "Ah, ah, you are not as clever as I thought you, if you are thinking of eating these tiny birds! They would not make you a mouthful. Just wait awhile till they are grown; then come, and you may eat both them and me." So the Bird appointed a day, and Reinecke went off in high glee, whistling merrily.