FAB. CCLXIII. A Fox and a Knot of Gossips.
A Fox that was taking a Walk one Night Cross a Village spy'd a Bevy of Iolly, Gossipping Wenches, making Merry o∣ver a Dish of Pullets. Why Ay, says he; Is not this a Brave World now? A Poor Innocent Fox cannot so much as Peep in∣to a Hen-Roost, though but to Keep Life and Soul together, and what a Bawling do you make on't presently with your Dogs, and your Bastards! And yet You your selves can lie Stuffing your Guts here with your Hens, and your Capons, and not a Word of the Pudding. How now Bold-Face, crys an Old Trot. Sirrah, we Eat our Own Hens, I'd have you know; and what you Eat, you Steal.