Soon after, a blackbird came flying and perched on one of the tree's thickest branches. He flapped his wings and then rubbed his against the branch.  
"You're welcome," said the apple-tree.
 
She knew that the blackbird always did like that, after he had been eating, and she was a tree, when no one offended her.
 
"Thank you," said the blackbird and went on rubbing his beak.
 
"You're working hard to-day," said the tree.
 
"There's a stone on the side of my beak," said the blackbird. "It's there as if it were glued fast; and I can't get it off, however much I rub."
 
"What have you had to eat?"
 
"I had some beautiful white berries," said the blackbird. "I never tasted anything so good; and I am a judge of berries, as you know. It was somewhere ever so far away; and now I've been flying for a day and a half with this silly stone. Every moment, I've been trying to get it off.... Ah, there it goes, thank goodness! Now it's on you, you old Crab-Apple-Tree. You'll see, you will never get rid of it."
 
"Just let it be," said the apple-tree, , "and don't bother about me. ............