Nevertheless, when the cuckoo would take no denial, the river replied :-
"The ugly hen painted.
By jealousy tainted.
The pretty hen died.
Lamenting his bride,
The cock, bald and bare,
Sobs loud in despair;
The pipal tree grieves
By shedding its leaves;
The buffalo mourns
By casting her Horns
The stream weeping fast,
Grows briny at last !"
"Oh dear! Oh dear me!" cried the cuckoo, "how very very sad! I must mourn too!" So it plucked out an eye, and going to a corn- merchant's shop, sat on the doorstep and wept.
"Why, little cuckoo! What's the matter?" cried Bhagtu the shopkeeper. "You are generally the prettiest of birds, and today you are as dull as ditch-water!"
"Don't ask me!" snivelled the cuckoo. "It is such terrible grief! Such dreadfull sorrow! Such-such horrible pain!"
However, when Bhagtu persisted, the cuckoo wiping its one eye on its wing replied :-
"The ugly hen painted.
By jealousy tainted.
The pretty hen died.
