The old Alligator thought to himself that he must certainly pretend to be the little House, or the little Jackal would never come in.  So he put on as pleasant a voice as he could (which is not saying much) and said,—­

“Hullo, little Jackal!”

Oh!  When the little Jackal heard that, he was frightened enough, for once.

“It’s the old Alligator,” he said, “and if I don’t make an end of him this time he will certainly make an end of me.  What shall I do?”

He thought very fast.  Then he spoke out pleasantly.

“Thank you, little House,” he said, “it’s good to hear your pretty voice, dear little House, and I will be in with you in a minute; only first I must gather some firewood for dinner.”

Then he went and gathered firewood, and more firewood, and more firewood; and he piled it all up solid against the door and round the house; and then he set fire to it!

And it smoked and burned till it smoked that old Alligator to smoked herring!

THE LARKS IN THE CORNFIELD

There was once a family of little Larks who lived with their mother in a nest in a cornfield.  When the corn was ripe the mother Lark watched very carefully to see if there were any sign of the reapers’ coming, for she knew that when they came their sharp knives would cut down the nest and hurt the baby Larks.  So every day, when she went out for food, she told the little Larks to look and listen very closely to everything that went on, and to tell her all they saw and heard when she came home.

One day when she came home the little Larks were much frightened.

“Oh, Mother, dear Mother,” they said, “you must move us away to-night!  The farmer was in the field to-day, and he said, ’The corn is ready to cut; we must call in the neighbours to help.’  And then he told his son to go out to-night and ask all the neighbours to come and reap the corn to-morrow.”

The mother Lark laughed.  “Don’t be frightened,” she said; “if he waits for his neighbours to reap the corn we shall have plenty of time to move; tell me what he says to-morrow.”

The next night the little Larks were quite trembling with fear; the moment their mother got home they cried out, “Mother, you must surely move us to-night!  The farmer came to-day and said, ’The corn is getting too ripe; we cannot wait for our neighbours; we must ask our relatives to help us.’  And then he called his son and told him to ask all the uncles and cousins to come to-morrow and cut the corn.  Shall we not move to-night?”

“Don’t worry,” said the mother Lark; “the uncles and cousins have plenty of reaping to do for themselves; we’ll not move yet.”

The third night, when the mother Lark came home, the baby Larks said, “Mother, dear, the farmer came to the field to-day, and when he looked at the corn he was quite angry; he said, ’This will never do!  The corn is getting too ripe; it’s no use to wait for our relatives, we shall have to cut this corn ourselves.’  And then he called his son and said, ‘Go out to-night and hire reapers, and to-morrow we will begin to cut.’”