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He thanked the bird and went home. He put the feather into a pot and told everything to his wife.
‘Silly, how can the feather become food?’ You must catch the bird and kill it. Then we can cook the bird and eat it.’
He did not answer, but looked into the pot and saw there a good di
Every day he went to the forest, and every day the small bird gave him a red feather that made a di
But his wife was very greedy. Every day she said to the man, ‘We must not have only the little red feather. We must have the bird. Then we can cook two, three or four feathers every day and we shall have as much food as we like.’
‘But the little bird is my friend. I shall not kill it.’ One day the woman followed her husband into the forest, but he did not see her. The woman heard the sweet song of the little red bird. She took a stone and killed it. The bird fell down off the tree. The man was very sad, but the wife said, ‘Now we shall have much food every day.’
They went home. At home the woman pulled one red feather off the bird and put it into the hot water. She cooked and cooked it, but the feather was just a feather. And from that day on they were again always hungry.
Mr Fox
Lady Mary was young, and Lady Mary was beautiful. She had two brothers, and more admirers than she could count.
But of them all, the bravest and most gallant was a Mr Fox, whom she met when she was down at her father’s country house. No one knew who Mr Fox was; but he was certainty brave, and surely rich, and of all her lovers Lady Mary cared for him alone.
At last it was agreed upon between them that they should be married. Lady Mary asked Mr Fox where they should live, and he described to her his castle, and where it was; but, strange to say, did not ask her or her brothers to come and see it.
So one day, near the wedding day, when her brothers were out, and Mr Fox was away for a day or two on business, as he said, Lady Mary set out for Mr Fox’s castle.
And after many searchings, she came at last to it, and a fine strong house it was, with high walls and a deep moat.
And when she came up to the gateway she saw written on it:
Be bold, be bold.
But as the gate was open, she went through it, and found no one there.
So she went up to the doorway, and over it she found written:
Be bold, be bold, but not too bold.
Still she went on, till she came into the hall, and went up the broad stairs till she came to a door in the gallery, over which was written:
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