music, he thundered. “Let it be voiceless forever, if it be just to take your captive there to execution!“
“Try it!“ called out voices among the crowd. “Try your flute, since you are so sure! If it sings for you, we’ll know that justice speaks and Hedgehog is not guilty!“
The Mouse son put his flute to his lips. Sounds came from it. The notes wept and wailed, so that all who heard, shuddered at what they were about to do. “Free him! Free him!“ they cried together. “Free the Hedgehog!“
Marmot alone hissed: “The axe! The axe! Of with his head!“
The Mouse son again gave forth a challenge: “The plum itself can tell the truth! I went by the tree only a moment ago: the plum hangs on its twig!“
Hearing this, the crowd rushed pell-mell to the hillock. But Grand-dad loitered behind. All the others stared in amazement; at the top of the plum tree, swinging back and forth, was that old plum!
Grand-dad no longer sputtered. He bowed his head. Anyone would think him repentant of his sins “I deserve punishment,“ he said humbly. “Although I starve, I will imprison myself in my hole.“
He walked gravely to his hummock. Then in a flash, he was in his burrow. Hardly was he safe inside, than his gloom was gone, his repentance forgotten. He patted the grain. “Ho! Ho!“ the wicked fellow laughed. “It’s better here than out-of-doors! Hopsa! Heysa! I may be jailed but I’ll not starve!
