The little Bird answered, smiling, “Ah, ah, you are not as clever as I thought you, if you are thinking of eating these tiny birds! They would not make you a mouthful. Just wait awhile till they are grown; then come, and you may eat both them and me.”
So the Bird appointed a day, and Reinecke went off in high glee, whistling merrily.
In the meantime the Bird went to a Dog and promised him a delicious meal—nothing other than Reinecke, in fact—telling him that he had nothing to do but hide in the bushes on the appointed day, and he could easily master the Master. The Dog smiled blissfully at the news, saying:
“This is what I call a stroke of luck! I’ll tell you what, little Bird, I’ll hide in the bushes, and when Reinecke comes, do you beg him to let you sing one last song. Then perch yourself on a twig and sing out loud and clear. That shall be the signal for me, and I will spring out of my ambush, and—snap!—all will be over with Master Reinecke.”
When the appointed day arrived Reinecke came gleefully along, trolling this lay:
“Fat little birds are right good cheer,
So here I am, my Gossip dear!
Well, Gossip, how goes it?”
“As well as possible,” answered the little Bird. “What I have promised I will perform; I have only one last boon to crave: let me sing my favorite song just once more!”
“Sing away, for all I care,” answered Reinecke; “only make it short.”