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Armenian Legends and Poems [1916] at

p. 90



THE fox ran up into the mill,
He raised his paws, and danced his fill.
      Brave Master Fox, ’tis but your due,
      In all the world there's none like you!

A peck of corn he ground that day,
Which on his back he bore away.

He ate the village chickens brown,
And trod the upland cornfields down.

The fox lies on his shaggy side,
His paws stretched out before him wide.

Sable and fox this fall we'll catch,
And for my son I'll make a match.

Alas, this year no price they made:--
My Hovhannes unmarried stayed!


Next: The Tale of Rosiphelee