Æsop's fables in words of one syllable

A pack of hounds drove a poor stag out of a wood, and in a great fright he made off to a farm that was near, and hid in a heap of straw in an ox’s stall. “What can have brought you to such a place as this, where you are sure to meet with your doom?” said the ox. “Oh,” cries the stag, “if you will but help to hide me for a while, I shall do well, and by and by I will move off.” It grew dusk, and the men on the farm came in and out, but did not see the stag, so he now thought it time to leave. “Nay,” quoth the ox, “wait a while; there is the man who owns the farm to come yet, and should he pass this way, I would not give the straw you hide in for your life.” While the ox spoke, the man came up and cast his eyes on the stag, and made a prize of him. “That is a bad game,” said he, “where none wins.”