When he was out of
sight, the Juniper-tree was just as it had been before, only the
handkerchief with the bones was gone. But Margery felt quite pleased
and happy, just as if her brother were still alive. And she went back
merrily into the house to dinner.
The bird flew away, sat himself on a goldsmith's house, and began to
sing--
"My mother, she killed me;
My father, he ate me;
My sister, little Margery,
Gathered up all my bones,
Tied them in a silk handkerchief,
And laid them under the Juniper-tree:
Kywitt! Kywitt! what a beautiful bird am I!"
The goldsmith sat in his workshop, making a gold chain, but he heard
the bird, which sat on his roof, and sang, and he thought it very
beautiful. He stood up, and as he went over the door-step he lost one
slipper. But he went right into the middle of the street, with one
slipper and one sock on; he had on his leather apron; in one hand he
carried the gold chain, and in the other the pincers, while the sun
shone brightly up the street. There he stood, and looked at the bird.
"Bird," said he, "how beautiful you can sing! Sing me that song
again."
"No," said the bird, "I do not sing twice for nothing. Give me that
gold chain, and I will sing it again."
"There," said the goldsmith; "you shall have the gold chain--now sing
me that song once more.
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