THE JUNIPER TREE
"My mother slew her little son;
My father thought me lost and gone:
But pretty Margery pitied me,
And laid me under the juniper tree;
And now I rove so merrily,
As over the hills and dales I fly:
O what a fine bird am I! "
And when he had done singing, he flew away, holding the shoes in one claw and the chain in the other. And he flew a long, long way off, till at last he came to a mill. The mill was going clipper! clapper! clipper! clapper! and in the mill were twenty millers, who were all hard at work hewing a millstone; and the millers hewed, hick! hack! hick! hack! and the mill went on, clipper! clapper! clipper! clapper!
So the bird perched upon a linden tree close by the mill, and began its song:
"My mother slew her little son;
My father thought me lost and gone:"
here two of the millers left off their work and listened:
"But pretty Margery pitied me,
And laid me under the juniper tree;"
now all the millers but one looked up and left their work:
"And now I rove so merrily,
As over the hills and dales I fly:
O what a fine bird am I!"
Just as the song was ended, the last miller heard it, and started up, and said, "O bird! how sweetly you
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