But the little birds sang outside,—
"A little drop, a tiny sup,
For the little birds to drink it up."
Yes, she did that; she just milked a tiny drop, 'twas as as she could, for the little birds outside; and then all the cows stood still and let her milk them. They neither kicked nor frisked; they didn't even lift a leg.
So when the old witch saw her coming in with the milk, she cried out,—
"This you haven't sucked out of your own breast But now just take this black wool and wash it white."
This the lassie was at her wit's end to know how to do, for she had never seen or heard of any one who could wash black wool white. Still she said nothing, but took the wool and went down with it to the well. There the little birds sang again, and told her to take the wool and dip it into the great butt that stood there; and she did so, and out it came as white as snow.
"Well, I never!" said the old witch, when she came in with the wool, "it's no good keeping you. You can do everything, and at last you'll be the plague of my life. We'd best part, so take your wages and be off."
Then the old hag drew out three caskets, one red, one green, and one blue, and of these the lassie was to choose one as wages for her service. Now she didn't know at all which to choose, but the little birds sang,—
"Don't take the red, don't take the green,
But take the blue, where may be seen
Three little crosses all in a row;
We saw the marks, and so we know."
