Snip! snap! crunch! cranch! and off went the Grey Goose’s head. After that the Fox ate her up, body and bones, and there was an end of her. Then he lay upon soft feathers and slept easily. Now this is true that I tell you: when a great red fox and a grey goose marry, and hard times come, one must make it soft for the other—mostly it is the grey goose who does that. Also I would have you listen to this: some folks say that it is not so, but _I_ tell you that the ways of the world are the ways of the world, even in the deep forest. [Illustration] [Illustration: K. P.] Five O’clock· The sleepy _Maid_ comes stumbling down The _Stairs_, while buttoning her _Gown_, And pokes the fire with a frown. Up in a rage the _Kobold_ flies, [Sidenote: ○] And blows the _Ashes_ in her eyes; “_Plague on the Fire!_” poor _Gretchen_ cries. [Sidenote: Sol. below] · · · · · The _Goodman_ turned about in _Bed_, [Sidenote: ☾] And from the _Pillow_ raised his _Head_ “_Wife, Wife, its five o’clock!_” he said. K.P. [Illustration: The Clever Student and the Master of Black Arts ¶: HP:] V. The wood-chopper’s son was not content to follow in the steps of his father, and to do nothing better than make fagots all the days of his life. So off he went to the great school at the capital, and there he studied and studied until he became the cleverest student in all of the world. But of this his father thought nothing, for he had no care to know more than he could see in front of his nose. “I can speak sixteen languages,” said the Clever Student, “I am a master-hand at geometry and astronomy, and I know quite as much of black art as the Great Master himself.” “But can you chop wood?” said the wood-chopper, “and can you bind the fagots?” No; the Clever Student knew nothing of that trade, but there were better eggs in Luck’s nest than wood-chopping. He knew enough of the black art to be able to change himself into a fine, dapple-gray nag whenever he chose, and by no more than the turning of a word or two. That he would do, and the old wood-chopper should take him to the town and sell him for fifty dollars. “But there is one thing you must remember,” said the Clever Student, “you must take the bridle from off my head when you sell me, for so long as it is on me I must, willy-nilly, remain a horse. The Great Master of Black Arts would like nothing better than to catch me in such a trap as that, for his books tell him that he is to have bad luck through me, and he has been after me for this many a day.” The wood-chopper promised to remember all that the Clever Student told him, and then the other went around back of the house and changed himself into a fine, dapple-gray horse. The wood-chopper slipped a bridle over the nag’s nose and a leg over his back, and then off he rode towards the town.