"Sing again that beautiful song," asked the shoemaker. "If you will
first give me those little red shoes you are making." The cobbler gave
the shoes, and the bird sang the song; then flew to a tree in front of
a watchmaker's, and sang:

"My wicked mother slew me,
My dear father ate me,
My little brother whom I love
Sits below, and I sing above
Stick, stock, stone dead."

"Oh, the beautiful song! sing it again, sweet bird," asked the
watchmaker. "If you will give me first that gold watch and chain in
your hand." The jeweller gave the watch and chain. The bird took it in
one foot, the shoes in the other, and, after having repeated the song,
flew away to where three millers were picking a millstone. The bird
perched on a tree and sang:

"My wicked mother slew me,
My dear father ate me,
My little brother whom I love
Sits below, and I sing above
Stick!"

Then one of the men put down his tool and looked up from his work,

"Stock!"

Then the second miller's man laid aside his tool and looked up,