“O dear, O dear, O dear!” the poor distracted Magpie wept. “Will nothing make you leave this tree stand?”
The Fox smacked his lips.
“Well, Harakka, drop me down another of your fledglings and I won’t disturb the tree. I promise.”
“What! Another of my babies! Oh, you wretch!”
“Well, suit yourself,” Mikko said. “One of your fledglings and you can keep the others safe in the nest, or I’ll cut the tree down.”
What could the poor Magpie do? Wouldn’t it be better to sacrifice another fledgling on the chance of saving the rest? Yes, it would! So she pushed another out of the nest. It fluttered to the ground and Mikko, the rascal, carried it off.
That afternoon Varis, the Crow, came to call on the Magpie.
“Why, my dear,” she said, looking over the fledglings, “two of your children are missing! Whatever has become of them?”
“It’s that rascally Mikko!” the Magpie cried, and thereupon she told her friend the whole story.
Varis, the Crow, listened carefully and then said: