Æsop's fables in words of one syllable

One hot day a wolf came to quench his thirst at a clear brook that ran down the side of a hill. By chance a young lamb stood there. The wolf had a wish to eat her, but felt some qualms, so for a plea he made out that the lamb was his foe. “Stand off from the banks, sir,” said he, “for as you tread them you stir mud in the stream, and all I can get to drink is thick and foul.” The young lamb said, in a mild tone, that she did not see how that could be the case, as the brook ran down hill to her from the spot where he stood. “But,” said the wolf, “how dare you drink of it at all, till I have had my fill?” Then the poor lamb told him that as yet her dam’s milk was both food and drink to her. “Be that as it may,” said the wolf, “you are a bad lamb; for last year I heard that you spoke ill of me and all my race.” “Last year! dread sir,” quoth the lamb, “why, I have not yet been shorn, and at the time you name I was not born.” The wolf, who found it was of no use to tell lies, fell in a great rage, and as he came up to the lamb, he said, “All you sheep have the same dull kind of face, and how is one to know which is which? If it was not you, it was your dam, and that’s all the same thing, so I shall not let you go from here.” He then flew at the poor meek lamb, and made a meal of her.

Might beats Right.