The Little Goat's Clever Trick

Bramble was a small, white goat with a brown patch on her ear and the most wonderfully quick mind in the whole meadow. She was always thinking, always noticing, always working things out.

One afternoon, Bramble had wandered a little further from the meadow than she meant to. She was exploring a particularly interesting patch of clover near the edge of the woods when she looked up and found herself face to face with a large grey Wolf.

The Wolf smiled in a way that was not at all friendly.

Bramble glanced left. She glanced right. The meadow was a long way behind her, and the Wolf was directly between her and the path home.

She took a slow, careful breath and did some very quick thinking.

"Good afternoon," she said, in the most polite voice she could manage.

"Good afternoon," said the Wolf.

"I was just thinking," said Bramble, "that this is a very lovely afternoon for a dance, don't you think? I haven't had a proper dance in quite a while. The trouble is, I can't dance without music." She looked up at him thoughtfully. "I hear you wolves are wonderful musicians."

The Wolf blinked. He hadn't expected that.

"Well," he said, standing a little straighter, "I do have a rather fine voice, as it happens."

"Oh, would you?" said Bramble. "Just one song? I do love to dance."

The Wolf was rather pleased with himself, and he opened his great jaws and began to howl — a long, loud, mournful sort of song that rose up over the clover and the meadow grass and rolled across the whole valley.

Bramble kicked up her heels and began to skip and leap and twirl in a very enthusiastic dance.

And the howl carried all the way back across the meadow.

Thomas the shepherd heard it, and so did his two sheepdogs. They pricked up their ears, looked at each other, and came racing through the grass at full speed.

The Wolf heard the pounding of their paws just a moment too late. He stopped his song with a yelp and dashed away into the trees, and the sheepdogs skidded to a halt in the clover.

Bramble stopped dancing and gave a small bow.

"Well done," said one of the dogs, panting.

"Music," said Bramble cheerfully, "is very useful."

Thomas arrived a moment later, out of breath, and gathered Bramble up and carried her home on his shoulders. "Next time," he said, "perhaps stay a little closer to the meadow."

"Yes," agreed Bramble. But she was already thinking about the next adventure.