“What ails you, handquern, that you grind and groan so fast and oft?”
“Why not, when Goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the cask and drowned himself, and Dame Partlet sits in the ingle and sighs and sobs? That’s why I grind and groan,” said the handquern.
“If I can do naught else I will crack,” said the chair; and with that he fell to creaking and cracking.
When the door heard that it said:
“What’s the matter? Why do you creak and crack so, Mr. Chair?”
“Why not?” said the chair. “Goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the cask and drowned himself; Dame Partlet sits in the ingle sighing and sobbing, and the handquern grinds and groans. That’s why I creak and crackle, and croak and crack.”
“Well,” said the door, “if I can do naught else, I can rattle and bang, and whistle and slam”; and with that it began to open and shut, and bang and slam; it deaved one to hear, and all one’s teeth chattered.
All this the stove heard, and it opened its mouth and called out:
“Door! door! why all this slamming and banging?”
“Why not,” said the door, “when Goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the cask and drowned himself; Dame Partlet sits in the ingle sighing and sobbing; the handquern grinds and groans, and the chair creaks and cracks. That’s why I bang and slam.”