"There was an owl flying across a garden, and it sat over a well and sipped the water.
"There was an owl flying across a garden, and it sat over a well and sipped the water."
And he went on telling the same thing over and over again—
"There was an owl flying across a garden, and it sat over a well and sipped the water."
So the mistress went on listening, and at last interrupted: "What sort of a tale is this? Why, it is a mere repetition."
"Why do you interrupt me? I told you you must not make any exclamations: this is the preface of the tale, and there comes another after it."
Then the man, after hearing this, could not help leaping up from the bench and whipping his wife.
"You were told not to make any interruptions, and you will not let him end his story."
So he set on beating, beating, whipping, slippering, basting her, until the wife at the end hated stories, and was in despair ever afterwards at the sound of them.