Peter Christen Asbjørnsen

“ This the Master stood by and saw, and, when the feathers flew about like fun, he asked the Birds—
"Why do you pluck off all your feathers, you Birds?"
"Oh! goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the ale-cask and drowned himself," twittered out the Birds; "dame Partlet sits sighing and sobbing in the ingle the Handquern grinds and groans; the Chair creaks and cracks; the Door slams and bangs; the Stove smokes and steams; the Axe rives and rends; and the Aspen quivers and quakes. That's why we are pilling and plucking all our feathers off." ”

“ That's why I creak and crackle, and croak and crack."
"Well," said the Door, "if I can do naught else, I can rattle and bang, and whistle and slam;" and with that it began to open and shut, and bang and slam, it deaved one to hear, and all one's teeth chattered. ”