My little brother whom I love
Sits below, and I sing above
Stick, stock, stone dead.”
“Oh, the beautiful song! sing it again, sweet bird,” asked the watchmaker. “If you will give me first that gold watch and chain in your hand.” The jeweller gave the watch and chain. The bird took it in one foot, the shoes in the other, and, after having repeated the song, flew away to where three millers were picking a millstone. The bird perched on a tree and sang:
“My wicked mother slew me,
My dear father ate me,
My little brother whom I love
Sits below, and I sing above
Stick!”
Then one of the men put down his tool and looked up from his work,