One moonlit evening, a little old woman baked a gingerbread man.
The Gingerbread Man
When the oven opened, he sprang from the tray. “Catch me if you can!” he cried.
Out through the door he ran. The little old woman and little old man hurried after him.
“Run, run, as fast as you can! You cannot catch me—I’m the Gingerbread Man!”
A cow called, “Stop, little Gingerbread Man! You look good enough to eat.”
But he raced past the cow and sang his boast again. Soon the cow joined the old couple behind him.
A horse bent low and said, “Wait, little fellow. I should like one small bite.”
He called, “I have outrun an old woman, an old man, a cow—and I can outrun you!”
Then he reached a wide river. He could not swim, and the footsteps behind him drew nearer.
“Climb onto my tail,” said the fox. “I will carry you safely across.”
Halfway over, the fox said, “The water is rising. Climb onto my back and keep your feet dry.”
Near the far bank, the fox murmured, “The water is deeper. Step onto my nose.”
Then the fox flipped him high and, in one quick bite, ate the Gingerbread Man.
The chase was over. Everyone turned homeward, and on the far bank the fox curled up as the quiet river shone.
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