TheWolfandtheLambOnceuponatimeaWolfwaslappingataspringonahillside,when,lookingup,whatshouldheseebutaLambjustbeginningtodrinkalittlelowerdown.‘There’smysupper,’thoughthe,‘ifonlyIcanfindsomeexcusetoseizeit.’ThenhecalledouttotheLamb,‘HowdareyoumuddlethewaterfromwhichIamdrinking?’‘Nay,master,nay,’saidLambikin;‘ifthewaterbemuddyupthere,Icannotbethecauseofit,foritrunsdownfromyoutome.’‘Well,then,’saidtheWolf,‘whydidyoucallmebadnamesthistimelastyear?’‘Thatcannotbe,’saidtheLamb;‘Iamonlysixmonthsold.’‘Idon’tcare,’snarledtheWolf;‘ifitwasnotyouitwasyourfather;’andwiththatherusheduponthepoorlittleLamband.WARRAWARRAWARRAWARRAWARRA.ateherallup.Butbeforeshediedshegaspedout.’Anyexcusewillserveatyrant.’