May-flower did as she said, but sighed at every step, and the big tears trickled down her cheeks.
“My poor cow!” said she to herself, “my poor, good, gentle cow! and just, too, as she was beginning to fatten a little.”
The little girl had no heart for supper, and many times awakened in the night, fancying that she heard the black cow lowing at the door. With very restlessness she rose before the dawn, and ran out upon the common, barefooted and but half-dressed. There, at the selfsame spot, appeared the little bird again, perched as before on her broom-flower cross. Again he sang, and seemed to call her. But, alas, she was as little able as on the preceding evening to understand him, and was turning away in vexation, when she thought she saw a piece of gold glittering on the ground. To try what it really was, she moved it with her foot; but, lo, it was the gold-herb; and no sooner had she touched it than she distinctly understood the language of the little bird,[5] saying in his warbling,
“May-flower, I wish thee well. May-flower, listen to me.”
“Who are you?” said May-flower, wondering within herself that she could understand the language of an unbaptised creature.
“I am Robin Redbreast,” returned the bird. “It was I that followed the Saviour on His way to Calvary, and broke a thorn from the crown that was tearing His brow.[6] To recompense this act, it was granted to me by God the Father that I should live until the day of judgment, and that every year I might bestow a fortune upon one poor girl. This year I have chosen you.”
“Can this be true, Robin Redbreast?” cried May-flower, in a transport of delight. “And shall I have a silver cross for my neck, and be able to wear wooden shoes?”
“A cross of gold shall you have, and silken slippers shall you wear, like a noble damsel,” replied Robin Redbreast.
“But what must I do, dear kind Robin?” said the little maid.
“Only follow me.”