"Dear Wolf," complain'd a hungry Fox,   "A lean chick's meat, or veteran cock's,
    Is all I get by toil or trick:
    Of such a living I am sick.
    With far less risk, you've better cheer;
    A house you need not venture near,
    But I must do it, spite of fear.
    Pray, make me master of your trade.
    And let me by that means be made
    The first of all my race that took
    Fat mutton to his larder's hook:
    Your kindness shall not be repented."
    The Wolf quite readily consented.
    "I have a brother, lately dead:
    Go fit his skin to yours," he said.
  'Twas done; and then the wolf proceeded:
    "Now mark you well what must be done
    The dogs that guard the flock to shun."
  The Fox the lessons strictly heeded.
    At first he boggled in his dress;
    Bu............