There were three sons of a King that had died, and they were living together, and there was a stable and a bird, and one of the sons was a bit simple. The bird used to be coming to the stable every morning and to be singing sweetly, and they all three fell in love with it and used to be trying to take it, but they could not. But one day the one that was a bit simple, that they called the Fool, took the tail off it. The bird said to him then: ‘You must follow me now until you find me;’ and it went away, and he went following after it. And when he was on the height it was in the hollow, and when he was in the hollow it was on the height, and he never could come up with it; and at last it went out of his sight. He came then to a wall, and he made a leap over it, and where did he come down but spread-legs on the back of a Mule that was in the field. ‘Are you a good jock?’ says the Mule. ‘I am middling good,’ says he. ‘Hold on so,’ says the Mule, ‘and I will bring you to the place where the bird is.’ There was a wall in front of them—a double wall—and the Mule faced it, and went over it with one leap, and the Fool on his back. ‘You are the best jock ever I saw,’ says the Mule. ‘You are the best Mule ever I saw,’ says the Fool. They went on then as far as they could through the course of the day, till the Mule said: ‘I’m hungry now; go get me a few grains of oats.’ ‘How can I do that,’ says the Fool, ‘when I have no money?’ ‘Go in there to that inn and get it for me, as I told you,’ says the Mule. ‘How much will do you?’ says he. ‘Seven stone,’ says the Mule. So they stopped at the inn, and the Fool put him into the stable and bade the innkeeper to give him seven stone of oats. ‘Go in now and get your own dinner,’ says the Mule. So he went in and he got his dinner; and when he was ready to go, the innkeeper asked for the money. ‘I have none,’ says he. ‘Well, I will keep the Mule in the stable till such time as you can pay me,’ says the innkeeper, and he went out and was going to lock the stable door, and the Mule gave a kick that broke his leg, and there he was lying on the ground. ‘Come on now,’ says the Mule; and the Fool got up on his back, and away with them again, and they came to a wall that was five miles in height. ‘At it now,’ says the Fool, and the Mule faced at it and crossed it with one leap. ‘You are a jock that can’t be beat,’ says the Mule. ‘You are a Mule that can’t be beat,’ says the Fool.