A Wood-Bird’s Song

When Siegfried had gone on a little way, he stretched himself upon a grassy mound beneath a tree to rest and think.

Looking up through the branches at the clear sky, he cried:—

“I am free! Free! Never again will I go back to that loathsome Nibelung.”

A bird in the tree began singing its sweet wood-song.

“How do you do, my little feathered friend!” said Siegfried. “I am sure what you are singing is very sweet, but I cannot understand your words.”

Then Siegfried cut a reed near by, and putting it to his lips, tried to whistle answers to the little bird’s notes.

His music did not sound much like the song of a bird.

“I give it up, my little friend,” he said, and threw away the reed.