them under the almond tree.
Kywitt, kywitt, kywitt, I cry,
Oh what a beautiful bird am I!"

The goldsmith was sitting in his shop making a golden chain, and when he
heard the bird, who was sitting on his roof and singing, he started up
to go and look, and as he passed over his threshold he lost one of his
slippers; and he went into the middle of the street with a slipper on
one foot and only a sock on the other; with his apron on, and the gold
chain in one hand and the pincers in the other; and so he stood in the
sunshine looking up at the bird.

"Bird," said he, "how beautifully you sing; do sing that piece over
again."

"No," said the bird, "I do not sing for nothing twice; if you will give
me that gold chain I will sing again."

"Very well," said the goldsmith, "here is the gold chain; now do as you
said."

Down came the bird and took the gold chain in his right claw, perched in
front of the goldsmith, and sang,

"It was my mother who murdered me;
It was my father who ate of me;
It was my sister Marjory
Who all my bones in pieces found;
Them in a handkerchief she bound,
And laid them under the almond tree.
Kywitt, kywitt, kywitt, I cry,
Oh what a beautiful bird am I!"

Then the bird flew to a shoemaker's, and perched on his roof, and sang,

"It was my mother who murdered me;
It was my father who ate of me;
It was my sister Marjory
Who all my bones in pieces found;
Them in a handkerchief she bound,
And laid them under the almond tree.
Kywitt, kywitt, kywitt, I cry,
Oh what a beautiful bird am I!"

When the shoemaker heard, he ran out of his door in his shirt sleeves
and looked up at the roof of his house, holding his hand to shade his
eyes from the sun.

"Bird," said he, "how beautifully you sing!"

Then he called in at his door,

"Wife, come out directly; here is a bird singing beautifully; only
listen."

Then he called his daughter, all his children, and acquaintance, both
young men and maidens, and they came up the street and gazed on the
bird, and saw how beautiful it was with red and green feathers, and
round its throat was as it were gold, and its eyes twinkled in its head
like stars.

"Bird," said the shoemaker, "do sing that piece over again."

"No," said the bird, "I may not sing for nothing twice; you must give me
something."

"Wife," said the man, "go into the shop; on the top shelf stands a pair
of red sho