The big bear and the clever fox had once bought a firkin of butter together; they were to have it at Christmas tide, and hid it till then under a thick spruce bush. After that they went a little way off and lay down on a sunny bank to sleep. So when they had lain a while the fox got up, shook himself, and bawled out “yes.”
“Don’t you believe then that I was bidden to a childbed feast.”
“Just-begun,” said the fox.
“Half-eaten,” said the fox.
The bear thought that a very queer name, but he hadn’t wondered long over it before he began to yawn and gape, and fell asleep. Well, he hadn’t lain long before the fox jumped up as he had done twice before, bawled out “yes,” and ran off to the firkin, which this time he cleared right out. When he got back he had been bidden to childbed feast again, and when the bear wanted to know the young’s name he answered, “Licked-to-the-bottom.”
After that they lay down again, and slept a long time; but then they were to go to the firkin to look at the butter, and when they found it eaten up, the bear threw the blame on the fox, and the fox on the bear; and each said the one had been at the firkin while the other slept.
Then Reynard stole off to the firkin for a morsel of butter that stuck there in a crack. Then he crept back to the bear who now lay without a care, sleeping in the sun, and greased his chaps and cheeks with it. Then he, too, lay down to sleep as if nothing had happened.