'Yes - more than that.'

'Are you a hundred?'

'Yes - more than that. I am too old for you to guess. Come and
see my chickens.'

Again she stopped her spinning. She rose, took the princess by the
hand, led her out of the room, and opened the door opposite the
stair. The princess expected to see a lot of hens and chickens,
but instead of that, she saw the blue sky first, and then the roofs
of the house, with a multitude of the loveliest pigeons, mostly
white, but of all colours, walking about, making bows to each
other, and talking a language she could not understand. She
clapped her hands with delight, and up rose such a flapping of
wings that she in her turn was startled.

'You've frightened my poultry,' said the old lady, smiling.

'And they've frightened me,' said the princess, smiling too. 'But
what very nice poultry! Are the eggs nice?'

'Yes, very nice.'
'What a small egg-spoon you must have! Wouldn't it be better to
keep hens, and get bigger eggs?'

'How should I feed them, though?'

'I see,' said the princess. 'The pigeons feed themselves. They've
got wings.'