But the hours pass and the first thing one knows it's time to get ready for the noonday dinner. Grandmother stirs up the wood fire that has been slumbering quietly, and then she breaks some eggs in the black tiled hearth, while Fanny watches with great interest the omelette and bacon that turns gold and sings in the flame. Grandmother knows better than any one how to make ham omelettes and tell stories. Fanny, seated on the little stove, her cheek no higher than the table, eats the steaming omelette and drinks sparkling cider. Grandmother, however, as her habit is, eats standing near the corner of the hearth. She holds her knife in her right hand, and in the other her snack spread on a crust of bread. When they have finished, both of them, Fanny says:
"Grandmother, tell me the story of the blue bird."
And grandmother tells her story of the blue bird, how a wicked fairy changed a beautiful young prince into a bird the color of the deep sky, and of the great sorrow the princess felt when she saw the change and beheld her lover flying all ruddy and dripping toward the window of the tower in which she was shut up.
Fanny is very thoughtful when she hears this story.
"Was it a long, long time ago, Grandmother, that the blue bird flew toward the tower where the princess was shut up?"
Grandmother replies that it was all a good while ago, those things, in the days when animals could talk.
"Were you young then?" asks Fanny. "I wasn't born yet," says Grandmother. And Fanny says to her: "I suppose a great many things happened before you were born, didn't they, Grandmother?"
When they are through with their little talk Grandmother gives Fanny an apple and some bread.
"Now run away, pet, and eat this in the yard."
And Fanny goes out into the yard, where there are trees and grass and flowers and little birds.
II 
[llustration]
Trees and grass and flowers and little birds there were in grandmother's yard. Fanny did not believe there was a prettier yard than this in all the world. Already she takes her knife from her pocket to cut her bread as the village people do. She crunches into the apple first thing of all and then begins to munch her bread. Just then a little bird comes fluttering near her, then another, and then a third, then ten, twenty, thirty of them, all circling about her, some of them gray, some red, some brown and green and blue, all of them so pretty, and all singing. Fanny could not guess at first what they all wanted.
But soon she perceives that they are after bread, like little beggars.
They are indeed beggars, but they are also songsters. Fanny was too kindhearted to refuse them bread when they paid for it with songs. She was only a little farmer's girl and she did not know that once upon a time, in a country where white rocks bathe in the blue sea, a blind old man earned his bread singing songs to the shepherds, songs that learned men admire even to this day. But her heart heard the little birds, and she threw them crumbs that scarcely touched the earth before they caught them in the air.