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57 The Bun 36. There lived and dwelt an old man and his old woman. The old man asked, “Bake me a bun, old woman!”“And what would I bake it from? There’s no flour.”“Oh, old woman! Scrape around the barrel, sweep out the bin; maybe you’ll find enough flour.” The old woman took a feather duster and scraped out the barrel and swept out the bin, and got about two handfuls of flour. She mixed it with sour cream, fried it in butter, and placed it on the windowsill to cool. The bun lay there, lay there for a while, and then it started rolling— from the window to the bench, from the bench onto the floor, along the floor to the door, where it leapt over the threshold into the hall, from the hall to the porch, from the porch to the yard, and from the yard out the gates, on and on. The bun was rolling along the road when it met a hare.“Bun, little bun, I’m going to eat you!”“Don’t eat me, you cross-eyed little hare!”“I’ll sing you a little song,” said the bun, and began singing: Scraped from the bottom of the barrel was I, Swept up out of the bin, Mixed together with sour cream, And fried in butter. I was cooled in the sill; I got away from grandfather, I got away from grandmother, And it won’t be hard to get away from you, hare! And the bun rolled on farther; the hare never even saw it! The bun rolled along, and then it met a wolf.“Bun, little bun, I’m going to eat you!”“Don’t eat me, gray wolf! I’ll sing you a song!” Scraped from the bottom of the barrel was I, Swept up out of the bin, Mixed together with sour cream, And fried in butter. 58 h The Bun I was cooled in the sill; I got away from grandfather, I got away from grandmother, I got away from the hare, And it won’t be hard to get away from you, wolf! And the bun rolled on farther; the wolf never even saw it! The bun rolled along, and then it met a bear.“Bun, little bun! I’m going to eat you!”“Just you try to eat me, Pigeon Toes!” Scraped from the bottom of the barrel was I, Swept up out of the bin, Mixed together with sour cream, And fried in butter. I was cooled in the sill; I got away from grandfather, I got away from grandmother, I got away from the hare, I got away from the wolf, And it won’t be hard to get away from you, bear! And so it rolled; the bear never even saw it! The bun rolled and rolled along, and then it met a fox: “Greetings, bun! What a fine one you are.”And the bun started to sing: 2Scraped from the bottom of the barrel was I, Swept up out of the bin, Mixed together with sour cream, And fried in butter. I was cooled in the sill; I got away from grandfather, I got away from grandmother, I got away from the hare, I got away from the wolf, I got away from the bear, It isn’t going to be hard to get away from you, fox! “What a fine song!” said the fox.“But I’ve grown old, bun, and I hear poorly. Come sit on my muzzle and sing that again a little louder.” The bun jumped up onto the fox’s muzzle and started singing the same song. “Thank you, bun! A fine song; I’d hear it again! Sit on my tongue and sing it for the last time,” said the fox, and she stuck out her tongue. The silly bun jumped onto her tongue, and the fox—snap!—and ate it up. ...

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Additional Information

ISBN
9781626740549
Related ISBN
9781628460933
MARC Record
OCLC
878813021
Pages
560
Launched on MUSE
2015-01-01
Language
English
Open Access
No
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