The Wren (2)

"The wren and his twelve sons were threshing corn in a barn, when a fox entered and claimed one of the workers for his prize. It was agreed, since he must get someone, that it should be the old wren, if he himself could point him out from the rest. 

The thirteen wrens were so much alike that the fox was puzzled. At last he said, “It is easy to distinguish the stroke of the old hero himself”. 

On hearing this, the old wren gave himself a jauntier air, and said, “there was a day when such was the case”. 

After this the fox had no difficulty, for boasting was always illfated and he took his victim without any dispute.

On another occasion the wren and his twelve sons were going to the peatmoss, when they fell in with a plant of great virtue and high esteem. The old wren caught hold of the plant by the ears, and was jerking it this way and that way, hard-binding it, and pulling it, as if peat-slicing; white was his face and red his cheek, but he failed to pull the plant from the bare surface of the earth: the plant of virtues and blessings.

The wren called for the assistance of one of his sons, saying, “Over here one of my sons to help me”, and they caught the plant in the same way, jerking it this way and that way, hard-binding and peat-slicing with it; white were their faces and red their cheeks, but they could not with all their ardour, and their utmost strength pull the plant from the bare surface of the earth: the plant of virtues and blessings.

“Over here with two of my sons to help me”, and the same operation was again performed unsuccessfully, and in the same way one after another, until the whole twelve sons came to the assistance of the old wren. Then they grasped it altogether, and under the severe strain the plant at last yielded, and all the wrens fell backwards into a peat pond and were drowned."