A fable of foxes

Yesterday I saw something very queer,

I was walking through the woods, and I saw a fox; a very simple creature, who was also walking through the woods, looking for something.
So I asked him, "Friend, what are you looking for?"
He looked at me and answered simply, "A trap, a trap, I'm looking for a trap!"

Suddenly I heard in the distance the sound of hounds barking, and guns firing, so I said, "Run friend, run, for surely they are comming for you, and will catch you if you do not make haste!"
He answered, "Friend, what are you talking about?"

He looked some more, and found what he was looking for hidden in some autumn leaves: a trap, a metal, spring loaded, cruel peice of machinery, with jaws of iron meant for clamping down any limb that happened to step into it.
The fox ran to it joyfully and shoved his foot in it. The clamp came down hard and the fox howled in pain.

I asked him, "Friend, what are you doing to yourself?"
He answered, "It is my right to do as I please, besides, it could be much worse than this!"
He then opened up the trap again and called loudly into the woods, "Bothers, come! See, I have found a means of enjoyment for us, so we can pass our time on earth happily! Come, come! Time is wasting!

And out of the woods came six or seven other foxes, and when they saw the trap and the fox they ran to him, and gathering around the trap, counted together,
"1...2...3!" and stuck their feet in simutainiously, so the trap clamped down painfully on them, and they all howled to the sky, and their cries echoed around the woods.

By now I could hear the hounds begin to bay, and I knew that they had picked up the sent, and would soon come, and I said:
"Come, you fools! We must away, or you will surely be destroyed!"

But they paid me no mind, and said to each-other: Come, let's do it again!"
And then I turned and saw on the edge of the clearing the bushes shake, and through the bushed I heard the sound of the guns, and the pounding of the horses and hounds, and I smelled the gunpowder, and the stank of sweaty animals, and the place was deaf with the cry of the dogs, and the foxes said happily, "Oh, what fun, what fun!" and I cried in terror to the foxes, "Run, the time is now, for they are upon you!"
And even as the hounds broke through the bushes, eyes red, drool flying from their mouths, teeth gnashing, bounding toward the trapped foxes, the fox I had first met turned to me and said over the noise:

"You know, friend, you ought to expand your horizons, I mean, tolerate a bit more than you do now. My, you really have no idea how sheltered you are from the rest--"
And then he was gone.

This be the moral of this tale:
As foxes flee in terror from the sound of dogs and guns,
so should men flee from sin.