Canto VII
Then he trod the way to Istray's house,
Raising a cloud of dust behind him, walking
With those fearsome paws pounding the path, beating
A relentless rhythm. He was nearing
The house, that shabby straw shelter, that home
Of the stout, slothful Istray.
The Baying Wolf slicked down his fur, tidied
Himself as much as possible, approached
The house with a sugary smile, replaced his
Dour demeanor. He knocked
On the door, with a call,
"Little friend, let me
In! The cold creeps upon me now,
And I am near frozen out here!"
Istray glimpsed the glistening fur of
The Baying Wolf through a crack in the straw.
He snickered, amused at the thought of
Him being foolish enough to let the fiend in.
He replied rapidly,
"For soothe, fiend!
"Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!"
The Wolf sneered, the speech of the pig reached
His ears. He changed his words, his manner,
His voice sweeter, sadder,
"Ah, little pig! Little pig! If
"I could but convince you that
"I am not the feared wolf! But a traveler,
"Turned away for the furs he wears!"
Istray scowled, surprised
By the reasonable excuses. He sighed, but
Stuck to his story.
"Nay, newcomer!
"Do you take me for a fool?! I shall never let thee
"In, not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!"
The Baying Wolf growled, agitated, but
Determined to try once more. His
Voice sang, sweeter than honey,
"Sweet friend
"Pig! Do you take me for a liar? This
"I would never do! A shelter from
"The storms a-coming, a shelter from storms, even
"If it be straw, I would be glad to have! Please, friend. Let
"This traveler in."
But Istray shook his head, and replied,
"I cannot risk it,
"I would be taken as a fool by my friends,
"If I let a stranger into my straw shack. And
"This I will not let happen, not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!"
At this the Baying Wolf roared with
Anger, roared so loud, the strength of
His breath so strong that house of hay fell down,
And Istray had no time to run.
