Джозеф Джекобс – English Fairy Tales (страница 4)

One day the rose-tree flowered. It was spring, and there among the flowers was a white bird; and it sang, and sang, and sang like an angel out of heaven. Away it flew, and it went to a cobbler's shop, and perched itself on a tree hard by; and thus it 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.”

“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,

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