So the man set off and he got there by nightfall. The old woman was standing raking the fire, and she was doing it with her nose, so long it was.
‘Good-evening, mother,’ said the man.
‘Good-evening to you,’ said the old woman. ‘No one has called me mother this hundred years.’
‘Can I lodge here to-night?’ said the man.
‘No,’ said the old woman. But the man pulled out his roll of
tobacco again, and filled his pipe with some of it, and gave the old woman enough snuff to cover the back of her hand. Then she was so delighted that she began to dance, and the man got leave to stay in her house. It was not long before he asked about Farmer Weatherbeard. She knew nothing at all about him, she said, but she governed all the birds; and she gathered them together with her whistle. When she questioned them all, the eagle was
