"
"We will see about it," said the butcher. So he gave her something to
eat, and gave her so much brandy that she became tipsy and lost her
senses, and fell asleep.
When he saw that, the butcher dipped her in a barrel of tar, and then
laid her on a heap of feathers.
When she awoke she found herself feathered all over, and wondered at
herself.
"Is it me or some one else?" said she. "No, it cannot be me. It must be
a strange bird. How shall I find out whether it is me or not? Oh, I
know. When I get home, if the calves lick me, and the dog does not bark
at me, then it is me myself."
The dog had no sooner seen her than he began to bark, as if there were
thieves and robbers in the yard.
"Now," said she, "I see it is not me."
She went to the cow-house but the calves would not lick her, for they
smelt the strong tar.
"No," said she, "I see it cannot be me. It must be some strange bird."
So she crept up to the top of the barn, and began to flap her arms as if
they had been wings, and tried to fly. Her husband saw her, so he came
out with his gun and took aim.
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