Pagina 391 de 626

She laid her kerchief over me, And took my bones that they might

lie

and he threw down the shoes to her,

Underneath the juniper-tree Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird

am I!'

And she now felt quite happy and lighthearted; she put on the

shoes and danced and jumped about in them. 'I was so miserable,'

she said, 'when I came out, but that has all passed away; that is

indeed a splendid bird, and he has given me a pair of red shoes.'

The wife sprang up, with her hair standing out from her head like

flames of fire. 'Then I will go out too,' she said, 'and see if

it will lighten my misery, for I feel as if the world were coming

to an end.'

But as she crossed the threshold, crash! the bird threw the

millstone down on her head, and she was crushed to death.