"The man's demented," retorted his wife, "not to ken the hind foot of a hare when he sees it!"
So the poor father did not say any more, but went away out to his work, sorely perplexed in his mind; while his little daughter, Golden-Tresses, who had a shrewd suspicion of what had happened, gathered all the bones from the empty plates, and, carrying them away in her apron, buried them beneath a flat stone, close by a white rose tree that grew by the cottage door.
And, lo and behold! those poor bones, which she buried with such care:
"Grew and grew,
To a milk-white Doo,
That took its wings,
And away it flew."
And at last it lighted on a tuft of grass by a burnside, where two women were washing clothes. It sat there cooing to itself for some time; then it sang this song softly to them:
"Pew, pew,
My mimmie me slew,
My daddy me chew,
My sister gathered my banes,
And put them between two milk-white stanes.
And I grew and grew
To a milk-white Doo,
And I took to my wings and away I flew."
The women stopped washing and looked at one another in astonishment. It was not every day that they came across a bird that could sing a song like that, and they felt that there was something not canny about it.
"Sing that song again, my bonnie bird," said one of them at last, "and we'll give thee all these clothes!"
So the bird sang its song over again, and the washerwomen gave it all the clothes, and it tucked them under its right wing, and flew on.