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| "My sixpence is gone," he said to himself, "and I have received nothing in exchange but a handful of rye! How can I make my fortune with that?" He did not despair, however, but picked up the sack and continued his way along the dusty road. Soon it became too dark to travel farther, and Gilligren stepped aside into a meadow, where, lying down upon the sweet grass, he rolled the sack into a pillow for his head and prepared to sleep. The rye that was within the sack, however, hurt his head, and he sat up and opened the sack. "Why should I keep a handful of rye?" he thought, "It will be of no value to me at all." |
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| So he threw out the rye upon the ground,
and rolling up the sack again for a pillow, was soon sound asleep. When
he awoke the sun was shining brightly over his head and the twitter and
chirping of many birds fell upon his ears. Gilligren opened his eyes and
saw a large flock of blackbirds feeding upon the rye he had scattered upon
the ground. So intent were they upon their feast they never noticed
Gilligren at all. He carefully unfolded the sack, and spreading wide its opening threw it quickly over the flock of black birds. Some escaped and flew away, but a great many were caught, and Gilligren put his eye to the sack and found he had captured four and twenty. He tied the mouth of the sack with a piece of twine that was in his pocket, and then threw the sack over his shoulder and began again his journey to London. "I have made a good exchange, after all," he thought, "for surely four and twenty blackbirds are worth more than a handful of rye, and perhaps even more than a sixpence, if I can find anyone who wishes to buy them." |
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