Once upon a time there lived a little old man and a little old woman. The little old man said to his wife, “Bake me a nice round bun, dear little wife.”
“With what shall I bake it, dear husband?” asked she. “We don’t have any flour left.”
“Eh, eh, dear wife! Scrape the bottom of the flour bin, sweep the floor of the granary, and with a bit of luck we’ll have flour enough.”
The little old woman scraped the bottom of the bin, swept the granary floor and managed to gather two handfuls of flour. She kneaded the dough with sour cream, baked a little round bun with butter, took it out of the oven and put it in the window to cool.
The Little Round Bun lay on the sill for a while. Suddenly, it rolled down onto the kitchen bench, dropped from the bench to the floor, rolled along the floor to the door, hopped over the doorsill to the porch, and rolled from the porch to the yard, through the yard past the gate, and further and further on down the road!
The Little Round Bun rolled on and on until it met a Rabbit.
“I’m going to eat you up, Little Bun!” said the Rabbit.
“Please don’t eat me, Bunny Rabbit! Let me sing a song for you instead,” said the Bun, and started to sing:
I am from the bin scraped,
From the floor swept,
With sour cream kneaded,
With butter baked,
In the window cooled.
I’ve run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
And run away from you too, I can!
And off rolled the Little Round Bun, so quickly that the Rabbit hardly saw him roll away!
The Bun kept rolling along, and met a Grey Wolf.
“Little Bun, Little Bun, I am going to eat you up!” said the Grey Wolf.
“Oh Please don’t eat me, big Grey Wolf! Let me sing a song for you instead,” and the Bun started to sing:
I am from the bin scraped,
From the floor swept,
With sour cream kneaded,
With butter baked,
In the window cooled.
I’ve run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A Bunny Rabbit,
And run away from you too, I can!
And the Little Bun rolled away, so fast that the Grey Wolf hardly saw him go!
The Bun rolled along until he met a Bear.
“Little Bun, Little Bun, I am going to eat you up!” said the Bear. “Oho, but how are you going to catch me, Old Bandy Legs?” said the Bun, and started to sing:
I am from the bin scraped,
From the floor swept,
With sour cream kneaded,
With butter baked,
In the window cooled.
I’ve run away from an old woman,
An old man,
A Bunny Rabbit,
A Grey Wolf,
And run away from you too, I can!
And away the Bun rolled, so swiftly that the Bear hardly saw him leave!
The Bun was still rolling along when he came upon a fox.
“Hello, Little Round Bun! How nice and round you are!” Again, the Bun started to sing:
I am from the bin scraped,
From the floor swept,
On sour cream kneaded,
With butter baked,
In the window cooled.
I’ve ran away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A Bunny Rabbit,
A Grey Wolf,
A Bandy-legged Bear,
And run away from you too, I can!
“What a lovely song!” exclaimed the Fox. “But, Little Bun, I am getting old and hard of hearing. Could I trouble you to come and sit on my snout, and sing the song once again, just a little louder?” So the Bun jumped up on the fox’s snout and sang the song again. “Thank you, Little Bun! What a lovely song! I would so love to hear it just once more! Do sit on my tongue and sing it for me for the very last time!” said the Fox and stuck out her long tongue. At that, the foolish Little Bun jumped up on the fox’s tongue, poised to sing. But snickety snack the fox gobbled him up!
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