"Who all my bones in pieces found;
Them in a handkerchief she bound."
Now there were only eight left hewing.
"And laid them under the almond tree."
Now only five.
"Kywitt, kywitt, kywitt, I cry,"
Now only one.
"Oh what a beautiful bird am I!"
At length the last one left off, and he only heard the end.
"Bird," said he, "how beautifully you sing; let me hear it all; sing that again!"
"No," said the bird, "I may not sing it twice for nothing; if you will give me the millstone I will sing it again."
"Indeed," said the man, "if it belonged to me alone you should have it."
"All right," said the others, "if he sings again he shall have it."
Then the bird came down, and all the twenty millers heaved up the stone with poles "yo! heave-ho! yo! heave-ho!" and the bird stuck his head through the hole in the middle, and with the millstone round his neck he flew up to the tree and sang,
"It was my mother who murdered me;
It was my father who ate of me;
It was my sister Marjory
Who all my bones in pieces found;
Them in a handkerchief she bound,
And laid them under the almond tree.
Kywitt, kywitt, kywitt, I cry,
Oh what a beautiful bird am I!"
And when he had finished, he spread his wings, having in the right claw the chain, and in the left claw the shoes, and round his neck the millstone, and he flew away to his father's house.
In the parlour sat the father, the mother, and Marjory at the table; the father said,
"How light-hearted and cheerful I feel."
