On a very warm afternoon, a clever little fox named Finley was trotting through the woods. His tummy rumbled like distant thunder. "Oh, I could really use a snack!" he thought. His mouth felt a bit dry too.

Just then, Finley looked up. Way, way up, hanging from a tall vine, were the most beautiful, plump, purple grapes he had ever seen. They looked so juicy and sweet, glistening in the sunshine. "Perfect!" Finley licked his lips.

He took a little hop. Nope, not even close.
"Hmm," he thought. So, he backed up, took a running start, and leaped! Whee! He stretched his nose as far as it could go, but the grapes were still just out of reach.

Finley was not one to give up easily. He wiggled his toes, crouched down low, and sprang up with all his might! He stretched and strained, his paws waving in the air. But alas, those grapes just dangled teasingly above him.

Panting a little, Finley sat down. He looked up at the grapes, then at his paws. He tried one more little jump, just in case, but it was no use.

Finley sniffed. He flicked his tail. Then, he said to himself, quite loudly so any passing squirrels might hear, "Hmph! I bet those grapes are sour anyway. Yes, probably very sour. Who wants sour grapes? Not me!"

And with his nose in the air, Finley trotted off, still a bit hungry, but trying very hard to look like he didn't care about those grapes one bit.

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