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Oregon Authors Project |
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| The following piece is one of many fictional stories in the book, The Ballad of Big Ben's Boots & Other Tales for Telling, by John Dashney. Read carefully, then respond to the questions that follow. As you read, take time to make notes in the right-hand column of
any thoughts, comments, or conclusions you have. (All written notes will help us score your paper by showing us how you think while you read.) A fox once sat under a tree in a meadow and wept bitterly. "Alas!" it cried. "Such a sorrowful fate is mine!" "Why do you weep?" asked a squirrel who perched on a branch above it. "The day is warm, the sun is bright, the air is pure and life seems good. And yet you cry in the midst of beauty." "I weep because of my sad fate," the fox replied. "Tonight I must sneak like the thief that I am down into the farmer's hencoop and steal one of his chickens." "That's sad fate for the chicken, but why for you?" asked the squirrel. "A fox must eat, after all. All creatures must. That is why I gather nuts." "I don't see you down here gathering them right now," observed the fox. "Fate says a fox must eat, but fate does not say a squirrel has to be the meal, not if the squirrel chooses to be careful." "Meaning that you don't trust me?" asked the fox. "Exactly!" the squirrel agreed. "Alas! That is my sad fate!" cried the fox. "Nobody will be my friend. No one will share my joys and sorrows. I am an outcast, and everyone's hand is against me. Do you know what will happen when I raid that hencoop tonight?" "I have a fairly good idea," said the squirrel. "All the chickens will squawk and carry on like the end of the world is at hand--all of them, mind you--not just the one I take. I wouldn't blame it for complaining, but what concern is it to the others? I'm not harming them, am I? Then the farmer will come out with his dogs and his gun, and I will have to run for life. They will do their best to hunt me down and destroy me. And why?" "Do you really want me to answer that?" said the squirrel. "You don't have to," said the fox. "I know it is because I am a fox, and that is what my nature compels me to do. Now, suppose I became a squirrel like you?" "You would look very odd sitting up here," the squirrel observed, "and I don't think a diet of nuts and seeds would do you much good." "But you are loved!" argued the fox. "You can sit in the farmer's orchard in the middle of the day and eat from his trees, and he thinks nothing of it! He even puts food out for you in the winter! Do you think he would ever set out a chicken for me when the snows are deep?" "I doubt it very much," said the squirrel. "Of course not!" the fox agreed. "He will try to kill me on sight, even if I have never gone near his precious hencoop! I am branded a killer and an outlaw, with never a chance to clear my reputation or speak in my own defense!" "Life can he hard," said the squirrel. "I feel sorry for you, but I'm still going to stay up here out of reach." "Your sorrow does me no good," said the fox. "Would you consider helping me tonight, though?" "If it does not mean leaving the safety of this tree, I might think about it," said the squirrel. Again the fox began to weep. "How sad it is never to be trusted!" it complained bitterly. "Still, I must make the most of your kind offer, even though you make it most unkindly." "Just tell me what you want," the squirrel said. "Simply this," the fox replied. "Tonight, when I journey to the hencoop, I will come across the meadow from the left and pass right under your tree. On the way back, with the chicken, I will run straight to the tree and then veer off to the right. As soon as I do, you come down from the tree and brush out my tracks with your long, beautiful and extremely useful bushy tail." "And wind up as the second course for your dinner?" the squirrel asked mockingly. "How can I grab you when my mouth is already full of chicken?" the fox argued reasonably. "Besides you don't have to erase them all the way across the meadow. Just do it far enough so that the dogs will follow the wrong track off to the left." "If I do this, what will you do for me?" the squirrel asked. "Tomorrow I will gather the finest nuts I can find on the forest floor and bring them right to the base of your tree," said the fox. It held up a paw to forestall the squirrel's objection. "And I will retreat all the way to the forest before you come down, because I know you do not trust me." It shed another tear at the injustice of it all. The squirrel considered the offer and then nodded. "Very well," it said. "I will cover your retreat, if I see you with a chicken in your mouth. But will you keep your end of the bargain?" "Of course, I will!" said the fox in a slightly offended voice. "For if this works it could mean a great profit for both of us." "It could also lessen the danger to both of us," the squirrel agreed. "Very well, we will try it tonight!" So that night the fox crept down from the forest, across the meadow past the squirrel's tree and made its way down to the farmyard. Not long after the squirrel heard a tremendous outcry from the hencoop and saw the fox running back across the meadow with a chicken in its mouth. When it reached the tree, the fox veered off in the opposite direction from that in which it had come. The squirrel waited only until the fox was out of sight, then it scampered down the tree and began rubbing out the fox's fresh tracks with its long, bushy tail, and at the same time covering the fox's scent with its own. When it heard the dogs coming in pursuit, it raced back up the tree to watch. The dogs charged straight across the meadow to the squirrel's tree, hesitated for a moment, then ran in the wrong direction, following the fox's old track. Close behind them came the farmer with his gun. Well, that part worked, the squirrel said to itself. Now will the fox keep its end of the deal or have I made a bad bargain? But the next morning the fox appeared with a mouthful of nuts which it spat out at the base of the squirrel's tree. "I don't see how you can stand to eat such stuff!" it complained. "And I don't see how you can stand to eat raw meat," the squirrel answered. "I might also add that one mouthful of nuts is not a very great reward for the risks I took last night." "I can only bring one mouthful at a time," the fox protested. "But you shall have more!" And back to the forest it went and returned with another mouthful. It had to make three trips before the squirrel was satisfied. "You drive a hard bargain," the fox protested. "And you are alive and well with a full stomach," said the squirrel. "Don't complain so much." "Very well," they agreed. "Tonight the farmer will guard the hencoop closely, so I will keep clear. But in two or three days he will relax and I will go back. Then we can try our scheme once more, if you are willing to work with me again." "Oh I am willing enough," said the squirrel. "But this time I want to be paid in advance." "You are becoming a greedy rogue," the fox complained. "I am sure it is due to the company I keep," said the squirrel. So the squirrel and the fox worked together once more, and again the partnership was a success. The squirrel got another supply of nuts, and the fox escaped with another chicken. |
Reading Level: 4 Benchmark 2
Notes on my thoughts, | ||
| Based on the author's style of writing, how do you think this author will end the story? Give examples from the story to support your idea.
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©1996 Storm Peak Press. Written by John Dashney. All rights reserved.
Permission granted for use by OPEN and Oregon Reading Assessment purposes.