'
'What did you have for breakfast this morning?' asked the lady.
'Oh! I had bread and milk, and an egg - I dare say you eat their
eggs.'
'Yes, that's it. I eat their eggs.'
'Is that what makes your hair so white?'
'No, my dear. It's old age. I am very old.'
'I thought so. Are you fifty?'
'Yes - more than that.'
'Are you a hundred?'
'Yes - more than that. I am too old for you to guess. Come and
see my chickens.'
Again she stopped her spinning. She rose, took the princess by the
hand, led her out of the room, and opened the door opposite the
stair. The princess expected to see a lot of hens and chickens,
but instead of that, she saw the blue sky first, and then the roofs
of the house, with a multitude of the loveliest pigeons, mostly
white, but of all colours, walking about, making bows to each
other, and talking a language she could not understand. She
clapped her hands with delight, and up rose such a flapping of
wings that she in her turn was startled.
'You've frightened my poultry,' said the old lady, smiling.
'And they've frightened me,' said the princess, smiling too.
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