So one night they went and killed Donald's ox.
"And to be sure, when Donald found his ox killed, he thought it was
all over with him. But he wasn't the man to be thinking that way long.
So he thought he'd better make the best he could of it, and he took
the skin off the ox and started with it to the town to sell it. And as
he was going along a magpie perched on the skin and began pecking at
it, and all the time chattering, for it had been taught to talk. With
that Donald put round his hand and caught the magpie and held it under
his coat.
"He went on to the town and sold the skin, and then he went to an inn
for a drink. He followed the landlady down into the cellar, and while
she was drawing the liquor he pinched the magpie and it began
chattering again. 'By the powers,' says the landlady, 'who's that
talking and what's he saying at all?'
"'It's a bird,' says Donald, 'that I carry around with me, and it
knows a great deal and tells me many a thing that it's good for me to
know. And it's after telling me just now that the liquor you're giving
me is not the best you have.
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