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Little Marleen now felt as lighthearted and happy as if her

brother were still alive, and she went back to the house and sat

down cheerfully to the table and ate.

The bird flew away and alighted on the house of a goldsmith and

began to sing:

'My mother killed her little son; My father grieved when I was

gone; My sister loved me best of all; She laid her kerchief over

me, And took my bones that they might lie Underneath the

juniper-tree Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!'

The goldsmith was in his workshop making a gold chain, when he

heard the song of the bird on his roof. He thought it so

beautiful that he got up and ran out, and as he crossed the

threshold he lost one of his slippers. But he ran on into the

middle of the street, with a slipper on one foot and a sock on

the other; he still had on his apron, and still held the gold

chain and the pincers in his hands, and so he stood gazing up at

the bird, while the sun came shining brightly down on the street.