When he came home again there was Father Goat toasting his toes at the fire and waiting for supper; and there was Uncle Bear on the back door-step sharpening the bread-knife. “Hi!” says the Great Red Fox, “and what are you doing here, Father Goat?” “I am just waiting for supper, and that is all,” says Father Goat. “And where is Uncle Bear?” says the Great Red Fox. “He is sharpening the bread-knife,” says Father Goat. “Yes,” says the Great Red Fox, “and when he is through with that he is going to cut your tail off.” Dear, dear! but Father Goat was in a great fright; that house was no place for him, and he could see that with one eye shut; off he marched, as though the ground was hot under him. As for the Great Red Fox, he went out to Uncle Bear; “That was a pretty body you asked to take supper with us,” says he; “here he has marched off with the pot of honey and the big cheese, and we may sit down and whistle over an empty table between us.” When Uncle Bear heard this he did not tarry, I can tell you; up he got and off he went after Father Goat. “Stop! stop!” he bawled, “let me have a little at least.” But Father Goat thought that Uncle Bear was speaking of his tail, for he knew nothing of the pot of honey and the big cheese; so he just knuckled down to it, and away he scampered till the gravel flew behind him. And this was what came of that partnership; nothing was left but the wits that the Great Red Fox had brought into the business; for nobody could blame Father Goat for carrying the wits off with him, and one might guess that without the telling. Now, as the pot of honey and big cheese were gone, something else must be looked up, for one cannot live on thin air, and that is the truth. “See, now,” says the Great Red Fox, “Farmer John over yonder has a storehouse full of sausages and chitterlings and puddings, and all sort of good things. As nothing else is left of the partnership we’ll just churn our wits a bit, and see if we can make butter with them, as the saying goes;” that was what the Great Red Fox said, and it suited Uncle Bear as well as anything he ever heard; so off they marched arm in arm. [Illustration: The Fox tells Father Goat a strange story.] By and by they came to Farmer John’s house, and nobody was about, which was just what the two rogues wanted; and, yes, there was the storehouse as plain as the nose on your face, only the door was locked. Above was a little window just big enough for the Great Red Fox to creep into, though it was up ever so high. “Just give me a lift up through the window yonder,” says he to Uncle Bear, “and I will drop the good things out for you to catch.” So Uncle Bear gave the Great Red Fox a leg up, and—pop!—and there he was in the storehouse like a mouse in the cheese-box. As soon as he was safe among the good things he bawled out to Uncle Bear, “What shall it be first, sausages or puddings?” “Hush! hush!” said Uncle Bear.