many were present to see it. It came waddling in by the drain, and went up to the dog, which was lying on the hearth-stone.
'Good evening,' it said.
'Thanks, Maiden Bright-eye,' said the dog.
'Where is my brother?'
'He is in the serpent-pit.'
'Where is my wicked sister?'
'She is with the noble king.'
'Alas! alas! I am here this evening, and shall be for one evening yet, and then I shall never come again.'
After this it slipped out, and no one could get hold of it. But the king's cook thought to himself, 'I shall see if I can't get hold of you to-morrow evening.'
On the third evening the duck again came waddling in by the drain, and up to the dog on the hearth-stone.
'Good evening,' it said.
'Thanks, Maiden Bright-eye,' said the dog.
'Where is my brother?'
'He is in the serpent-pit.'
'Where is my wicked sister?'
'She is with the noble king.'
'Alas! alas! now I shall never come again.'
With this it slipped out again, but in the meantime the cook had posted himself at the outer end of the drain with a net, which he threw over it as it came out. In this way he caught it, and came in to the others with the most beautiful duck they had ever seen—with so many golden feathers on it that everyone marvelled. No one, however, knew what was to be done with it; but after what they had heard they knew that there was something uncommon about it, so they took good care of it.
At this time the brother in the serpent-pit dreamed that his right sister had come swimming to the king's palace in the shape of a duck, and that she could not regain her own form until her beak was cut off. He got
