The Bun

There once lived an old man and woman.

One day the old man said: "Bake me a bun, old woman." "What shall I bake it with? We've no flour." "Come on, old woman! Sweep round the bin and shake out the tin; maybe there's some in.

Taking up her goose-wing brush, the old woman swept round the bin, shook out the tin and scraped together a few handfuls of flour. She kneaded it with sour cream, baked it in butter and placed the bun on the window-ledge to cool.

By and by the bun got tired of lying there, so he rolled off from the window to the bench, from the bench to the floor, from the floor to the door; there he hopped over the threshold to the porch, from the porch into the yard, from the yard through the gate, and off down the road.

As he rolled along the road he met a hare. "Round bun, round bun, I'm going to eat you." "Oh, please, don't eat me, cross-eyed hare. Let me sing you a song," begged the bun and sang:

 

"I was scraped in the bin,
Ground in the mill,
Shaken in the tin,
Baked on the grill,
Cooled on the sill;
From grand-dad I then fled,
From grannie I soon fled,
And I'll soon run away from you!"

And off he rolled, so fast the hare could not catch him.

On and on the bun rolled until he met a wolf. "Round bun, round bun, I'm going to eat you." "Oh, please, don't eat me, grey wolf. Let me sing you a song," begged the bun and sang:

"I was scraped in the bin,
Ground in the mill,
Shaken in the tin,
Baked on the grill,
Cooled on the sill;
From grand-dad I then fled,
From grannie I soon fled,
From cross-eyed hare I fled,
And I'll soon run away from you!"

And off he rolled, so fast the wolf could not catch him.

On and on he rolled until he met a bear. "Round bun, round bun, I'm going to eat you." "Oh, you couldn't do that, Bandy-legs!"

"I was scraped in the bin,
Ground in the mill,
Shaken in the tin,
Baked on the grill,
Cooled on the sill;
From grand-dad I then fled,
From grannie I soon fled,
From cross-eyed hare I fled,
From big grey wolf I fled,
And I'll soon run away from you!"

And off he rolled, so fast the bear could not catch him.

On and on rolled the bun, until he met a fox. "Hello there, Master Bun! How handsome you look today." The bun sang his little song:

"I was scraped in the bin,
Ground in the mill,
Shaken in the tin,
Baked on the grill,
Cooled on the sill;
From grand-dad I then fled,
From grannie I soon fled,
From cross-eyed hare I fled,
From big grey wolf I fled,
From bandy bear I fled,
And I'll soon run away from you!"

"What a delightful little song!" said the fox. "The only trouble is, round bun, I'm rather old and don't hear too well. Come, sit on my nose and sing it again."

The bun hopped onto the fox's nose and sang his song again. "Oh, thank you, round bun. What a splendid song; I'd love to hear it just once more. Come, sit on my tongue and sing it one last time." She poked out her tongue. The foolish bun hopped onto her tongue... And the fox —snip-snap —gobbled him up.