Reynard caught hold of him, took him by the throat, and threw him over his back, so that he was off to the wood before he had crowed his crow out, as fast as Reynard could lay legs to the ground.
When they had come under an old spruce fir, Reynard threw Chanticleer on the ground, and set his paw on his breast, and was going to take a bite!
"You are a heathen, Reynard!" said Chanticleer. "Good Christians say grace, and ask a blessing before they eat."
But Reynard would be no heathen. God forbid it! So he let go his hold, and was about to fold his paws over his breast and say grace—but pop! up flew Chanticleer into a tree.
"You shan't get off for all that," said Reynard to himself. So he went away, and came again with a few chips which the woodcutters had left. Chanticleer peeped and peered to see what they could be.
"Whatever have you got there?" he asked.
"These are letters I have just got," said Reynard; "won't you help me to read them, for I don't know how to read writing?"
"I'd be so happy, but I dare not read them now," said Chanticleer, "for here comes a hunter;
