"General Blackbird, come to make war upon the King, and get back his wife."
The Porter laughed so at the sight of General Blackbird, with his thorn, and his frogskin, and his drum, that he nearly fell off his chair. Then he escorted Blackbird into the King's presence.
"What do you want?" said the King.
"I want my wife," said the Blackbird, beating upon his drum, rub-a-dub-dub, rub-a-dub-dub.
"You shan't have her," said the King.
"Then," said the Blackbird, "you must take the consequences." Rub-a-dub-dub went the drum.
"Seize this insolent bird," said the King, "and shut him up in the henhouse. I don't think there will be much left of him in the morning."
The servants shut up Blackbird in the henhouse. When all the world was asleep, Blackbird said—
"Come out, Pussy, from my ear,
There are fowls in plenty here;
Scratch them, make their feathers fly,
Wring their necks until they die."
Out came Pussy-cat in an instant. What a confusion there was in the henhouse. Cluck-cluck-cluck went the hens, flying all over the place; but no use: Pussy got them all, and scratched out their feathers, and wrung their necks. Then she went back into Blackbird's ear, and Blackbird went to sleep.