the millstone
you are picking round my neck."

So the millers hung it as they were asked; and when the song was
finished, the bird spread its wide white wings and, with the millstone
round its neck and the little rose-red shoes in one foot, the golden
chain in the other, it flew back to the rose tree. But the little
playmate was not there; he was inside the house eating his dinner.

Then the bird flew to the house, and rattled the millstone about the
eaves until the stepmother cried, "Hearken! How it thunders!"

So the little boy ran out to see, and down dropped the dainty rose-red
shoes at his feet.

"See what fine things the thunder has brought!" he cried with glee as he
ran back.

Then the white bird rattled the millstone about the eaves once more, and
once again the stepmother said, "Hearken! How it thunders!"

So this time the father went out to see, and down dropped the golden
chain about his neck.

"It is true," he said when he came back. "The thunder does bring fine
things!"

Then once more the white bird rattled the millstone about the eaves, and
this time the stepmother said hurriedly, "Hark! there it is again!
Perhaps it has got something for me!"

Then she ran out; but the moment she stepped outside the door, down fell
the millstone right on her head and killed her.

So that was an end of her. And after that the little boy was ever so
much happier, and all the summer time he sate with his little
rose-coloured shoes under the wild rose tree and listened to the white
bird's song. But when winter came and the wild rose tree was all barren
and bare save for snowflake flowers, the white bird came no longer and
the little boy grew tired of waiting for it. So one day he gave up
altogether, and they buried him under the rose tree beside his little
playmate.

Now when the spring came and the rose tree blossomed, the flowers were
no longer white. They were edged with rose colour like the little boy's
shoes, and in the centre of each blossom there was a beautiful tuft of
golden silk like the little girl's hair.

And if you look in a wild rose you will find these things there still.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH FAIRY TALES***

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