The Juniper Tree (part four)

The bird flew away and perched upon a Goldsmith's house, and began to sing--

My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.

The Goldsmith sat in his workshop, and was making a gold chain, when he heard the bird that sat upon his roof and sang; and it seemed to him so beautiful. Then he got up, and as he stepped over the sill of the door he lost one of his slippers; but he went straight up the middle of the street with one slipper and one sock on. He had his leather apron on, and in the one hand he had the gold chain and in the other the pincers, and the sun shone brightly up the street. He went and stood and looked at the bird. "Bird," said he then, "how beautifully you can sing. Sing me that song again. " "Nay," said the bird, "I don't sing twice for nothing. Give me the gold chain and I will sing it you again." "There," said the Goldsmith, "take the gold chain; now sing me that again." Then the bird came and took the gold chain in the right claw, and sat before the Goldsmith, and sang--

My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.

The Shoemaker heard it, and ran outside the door in his shirt sleeves and looked up at the roof, and was obliged to hold his hands before his eyes to prevent the sun from blinding him. "Bird," said he, "how beautiful you can sing." Then he called in at the door, "Wife, come out, here's a bird; look at the bird; he just can sing beautifully." Then he called his daughter, and children, and apprentices, servant boy, and maid; and they all came up the street, and looked at the bird; oh! how beautiful he was, and he had such red and green feathers, and round about the throat was all like gold, and the eyes sparkled in his head like stars. "Bird," said the Shoemaker, "now sing me that piece again." "Nay," said the bird, "I don't sing twice for nothing; you must make me a present of something." "Wife," said the man, "go into the shop; on the top shelf there stands a pair of red shoes, fetch them down." The wife went and fetched the shoes. "There, bird," said the man; "now sing me that song again." Then the bird came and took the shoes in the left claw, and flew up on to the roof again and sang--

My mother killed me;
My father grieved for me;
My sister, little Marline,
Wept under the juniper tree;
Kwitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I.