The Lion's Den

The King of the animals called a meeting in his den. “Order!” he shouted. “Order!”

Then all the trumpeting and baying and croaking and barking and hissing and laughing and whistling subsided.

“That’s quite enough of that,” said lion. “Right! First item on the agenda. Does my den smell?”

“Smell?” said skunk.

“Everything smells,” said owl.

“How does it smell?” said lion. “How does it smell?”

“To tell you the truth, lion,” said dog, “and not to beat about the bush, to come straight to the point of the matter… ”

“Get on with it!” said lion.

“Not too good, lion,” said dog. “In fact, it smells something terrible.”

“How dare you?” roared lion. And he tore the honest dog to pieces. Then the king of the animals glared at all the creatures in his den. “All right,” he growled, “how does my den smell?”

“Like mango blossom,” said monkey. “Your den, it smells like a dream of paradise.”

“You liar!” roared lion. “You deserve the same fate as dog.” And he tore monkey to pieces.

“What about you, fox?” asked lion. “How does my den smell?”

“Ah!” said fox, and he sniffed. “If only I could tell,” he said, and he sneezed. Atishoo! “If only I could get rid of this dreadful cold!”