Our hermit was explaining to us how we might derive instruction from this fable, when suddenly a fierce weasel and a half-grown young one bounced in through the open doorway; but fortunately for us poor little mice they did not see us for half a minute, and this delay enabled the worthy Toady to save our lives. Scrambling out of his hole, with a great deal more activity than could be expected in such a corpulent old gentleman, he exclaimed, "Enter speedily, my children!" For once we followed his advice, without asking for a reason why; but we had hardly time to take refuge, when Mother Weasel espied the last tail whisking into the hole, and screeching out to her son, "A prey! a prey! I thought I smelt mice!" at a single bound she reached the entrance. She was too late, for our protector had backed his fat body into the hole, which he fitted so exactly, that the smallest beetle could hardly have passed him. "Friend Weasel," said he, "I dispute not that thou mayst have _smelt_ mice, but this day shalt thou _taste_ none, if my protection availeth anything. Verily, it appeareth to me that for once in thy life thou art baulked." Now you must know that most animals are rather afraid to attack a toad, believing that he is a magician, and has the power of injuring his enemies by spitting at them. Whether this be true or not I cannot say, but I am sure that our friend was the most quiet, inoffensive creature on earth. But Mrs. Weasel seemed to think differently, for bounding away towards the door-way, she said to her son, "Come along, my boy! my nose tells me that they are nothing but little miserable harvest-mice. Let us try if we cannot meet with some of the great fat field-mice in the wheat-field, they are six times as large as these little wretches. For my part I am not at all hungry, but 'tis glorious fun hunting them to death." But there was another animal close at hand, who was also very fond of hunting, and for the same reason; because he thought it was "_glorious fun_." This was the little terrier dog "Pepper," whose master, Farmer Winter, had come into the meadow that morning, to see how his sheep were getting on. Now it so happened that "Pep" took it into his random head to visit the stable, and he entered exactly as Mistress and Master W. were going out. Of course our situation prevented us from witnessing this interesting meeting, but we heard a scuffle, and two loud squeaks, which our protector, who saw the whole affair from the mouth of his den, informed us were the last sounds ever uttered by the long-backed mother and son. But though Pepper had kindly shaken our enemies to death, we did not like to trust ourselves in his power, thinking that he would most likely serve us in the same manner; so we remained quietly in the hole, till our kind friend had seen that the coast was clear, and then, having thanked him for his protection, we ran home as fast as possible.