The pigeons cooed over her.the turkeys gobbledround about her,and the ducks quacked. "No one knew her!"they said."She has no rela-tions.It is an act of grace that she is here.She has nei-ther a drake father nor a hen mother,and no descendants!" Still she had relations,although she did not knowit,nor the clerk either,however much manuscript hehad in the table-drawer,but one of the old crows knewabout it,and told about it.From its mother and grand-mother it had heard about Poultry Meg's mother andher grandmother,whom we also know from the time shewas a child and rode over the bridge looking about herproudly,as if the whole world and its birds'nests be-longed to her;we saw her out on the heath by thesand-dunes,and last of all in the ferry-house. The grandchild,the last of the race,had comehome again where the old house had stood,where thewild birds screamed,but she sat among the tamebirds,known by them and known along with them.Poultry Meg had no more to wish for,she was glad todie,and old enough to die. "Grave!grave!"screamed the crows. And Poultry Meg got a good grave,which no oneknew except the old crow,if he is not dead also. And now we know the story of the old manor,theold race,and the whole of Poultry Meg's family.