Then they all laughed, and the King said, "Come here, Mistress Thrush, and you shall have your jacket."
Down flew the Thrush upon the table again; but the King caught her, and held her fast.
"Let me go!" squeaked the Thrush, struggling to get free.
But the King would not let her go. I am afraid that although he was a King, he was not so honest as the Carder or the Spinner, and cared less for his word than the Weaver and the Tailor.
"Greedy King," said the Thrush, "to covet my little jacket!"
"I covet more than your jacket," said the King; "I covet you, and I am going to chop you up into little bits."
Then he began to chop her up into bits. As she was being chopped up, the Thrush said, "The King snips and cuts like a Tailor, but he is not so honest!"
When the King had finished chopping her up, he began to wash the pieces. And each piece, as he washed it, called out, "The King scours and scrubs like a washerwoman, but he is not so honest!"
Then the King put the pieces of the Thrush into a frying-pan with oil, and began to fry them. But the pieces went on calling out, "The King is like a cook, frying and sputtering, but he is not so honest!"
When she was fried, the King ate her up. From within the body of the King still the Thrush kept calling out, "I am inside the King! It is just like the inside of any other man, only not so honest!"
The King became like a walking musical-box, and he did not like it at all, but it was his own fault. Wherever
