“Don’t do that,” replied the stork; “I am a sacred bird which brings mankind great profit, and no one does me an injury. Leave me my life, and I may do thee good in some other way.”

“Well, be off, Cousin Longlegs,” said the tailor. The stork rose up, let its long legs hang down, and flew gently away.

“What’s to be the end of this?” said the tailor to himself at last, “my hunger grows greater and greater, and my stomach more and more empty. Whatsoever comes in my way now is lost.” At this moment he saw a couple of young ducks which were on a pond come swimming towards him. “You come just at the right moment,” said he, and laid hold of one of them and was about to wring its neck. On this an old duck which was hidden among the reeds, began to scream loudly, and swam to him with open beak, and begged him urgently to spare her dear children.

“Canst thou not imagine,” said she, “how thy mother would mourn if anyone wanted to carry thee off, and give thee thy finishing stroke?”