(1838)
On the last house in a little village the storks had built a nest, and the
mother stork sat in it with her four young ones, who stretched out their
necks and pointed their black beaks, which had not yet turned red like those
of the parent birds. A little way off, on the edge of the roof, stood the father
stork, quite upright and stiff; not liking to be quite idle, he drew up one leg,
and stood on the other, so still that it seemed almost as if he were carved in
wood. “It must look very grand,” thought he, “for my wife to have a sentry
guarding her nest. They do not know that I am her husband; they will think
I have been commanded to stand here, which is quite aristocratic;” and so
he continued standing on one leg.
In the street below were a number of children at play, and when they
caught sight of the storks, one of the boldest amongst the boys began to sing
a song about them, and very soon he was joined by the rest. These are the
words of the song, but each only sang what he could remember of them in
his own way.
“Stork, stork, fly away,
Stand not on one leg, I pray,
See your wife is in her nest,
With her little ones at rest.
They will hang one,
And fry another;
They will shoot a third,
And roast his brother.”
“Just hear what those boys are singing,” said the young storks; “they say
we shall be hanged and roasted.”
