Canto VII

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.