The mole lived in rich, soft soil teeming with earthworms, his favourite food. But lately he had been deeply troubled.
A cunning yellow fox had appeared in his territory. Its hearing and sense of smell were extraordinarily keen. The mole moved house several times, but each time the yellow fox tracked him down and dug open his burrow. In this way, the fox ate the mole’s wife and five of his sons. Now only his cleverest son remained.
One day, the mole was once again discussing with his son what they should do. Suddenly, he slapped his thigh.
“I’ve got a brilliant idea! We’ll give the fox a new name. We’ll call him an earthworm. From now on, he doesn’t eat us—we eat him!”
The next day, the mole was near the entrance of the burrow looking for earthworms when his son came hurtling in from outside.
“Earthworm’s coming!”
Before the words had even left his mouth, the son had already disappeared into the deepest part of the burrow.
The mole froze for a moment, then shouted into the depths:
“Do you mean the earthworm we eat, or the earthworm that eats us?”
Before he could finish, daylight flooded into his eyes accustomed to darkness. The last thing he felt was the fox’s sharp teeth piercing his belly.
Hey idiot, you won’t get anything by simply renaming it–whether is is a gulf or a lake!
做个明白人 