No More Learning

The roses were again reflected; they were very
beautiful, but they did not know it, for no one had told them. The sun
shone among the delicate leaves; everything breathed forth the
loveliest fragrance, and all felt as we do when we are filled with joy
at the thought of our happiness.

"How beautiful existence is! " said each rose. "The only thing that
I wish for is to be able to kiss the sun, because it is so warm and
bright. I should also like to kiss those roses down in the water,
which are so much like us, and the pretty little birds down in the
nest. There are some up above too; they put out their heads and pipe
softly; they have no feathers like their father and mother. We have
good neighbours, both below and above. How beautiful existence is! "

The young ones above and below--those below were really only
shadows in the water--were sparrows; their parents were sparrows
too, and had taken possession of the empty swallows' nest of last
year, and now lived in it as if it were their own property.

"Are those the duck's children swimming here? " asked the young
sparrows when they saw the feathers on the water.

"If you must ask questions, ask sensible ones," said their mother.
"Don't you see that they are feathers, such as I wear and you will
wear too? But ours are finer. Still, I should like to have them up
in the nest, for they keep one warm. I am very curious to know what
the ducks were so startled about; not about us, certainly, although
I did say 'peep' to you pretty loudly. The thick-headed roses ought to
know why, but they know nothing at all; they only look at themselves
and smell. I am heartily tired of such neighbours. "

"Listen to the dear little birds up there," said the roses;
"they begin to want to sing too, but are not able to manage it yet.
But it will soon come. What a pleasure that must be! It is fine to
have such cheerful neighbours. "

Suddenly two horses came galloping up to be watered. A peasant boy
rode on one, and he had taken off all his clothes except his large
broad black hat. The boy whistled like a bird, and rode into the
pond where it was deepest, and as he passed the rose-bush he plucked a
rose and stuck it in his hat. Now he looked dressed, and rode on.
The other roses looked after their sister, and asked each other,
"Where can she be going to? " But none of them knew.

"I should like to go out into the world for once," said one;
"but here at home among our green leaves it is beautiful too. The
whole day long the sun shines bright and warm, and in the night the
sky shines more beautifully still; we can see that through all the
little holes in it. "

They meant the stars, but they knew no better.

"We make it lively about the house," said the sparrow-mother; "and
people say that a swallows' nest brings luck; so they are glad of
us. But such neighbours as ours! A rose-bush on the wall like that
causes damp. I daresay it will be taken away; then we shall,
perhaps, have some corn growing here. The roses are good for nothing
but to be looked at and to be smelt, or at most to be stuck in a
hat. Every year, as I have been told by my mother, they fall off.
The farmer's wife preserves them and strews salt among them; then they
get a French name which I neither can pronounce nor care to, and are
put into the fire to make a nice smell. You see, that's their life;
they exist only for the eye and the nose. Now you know. "

In the evening, when the gnats were playing about in the warm
air and in the red clouds, the nightingale came and sang to the
roses that the beautiful was like sunshine to the world, and that
the beautiful lived for ever. The roses thought that the nightingale
was singing about itself, and that one might easily have believed;
they had no idea that the song was about them. But they were very
pleased with it, and wondered whether all the little sparrows could
become nightingales.

"I understand the song of that bird very well," said the young
sparrows. "There was only one word that was not clear to me. What does
'the beautiful' mean? "

"Nothing at all," answered their mother; "that's only something
external. Up at the Hall, where the pigeons have their own house,
and corn and peas are strewn before them every day--I have dined
with them myself, and that you shall do in time, too; for tell me what
company you keep and I'll tell you who you are--up at the Hall they
have two birds with green necks and a crest upon their heads; they can
spread out their tails like a great wheel, and these are so bright
with various colours that it makes one's eyes ache. These birds are
called peacocks, and that is 'the beautiful. ' If they were only
plucked a little they would look no better than the rest of us. I
would have plucked them already if they had not been so big. "

"I'll pluck them," piped the young sparrow, who had no feathers
yet.

In the farmhouse lived a young married couple; they loved each
other dearly, were industrious and active, and everything in their
home looked very nice. On Sundays the young wife came down early,
plucked a handful of the most beautiful roses, and put them into a
glass of water, which she placed upon the cupboard.

"Now I see that it is Sunday," said the husband, kissing his
little wife. They sat down, read their hymn-book, and held each
other by the hand, while the sun shone down upon the fresh roses and
upon them.

"This sight is really too tedious," said the sparrow-mother, who
could see into the room from her nest; and she flew away.

The same thing happened on the following Sunday, for every
Sunday fresh roses were put into the glass; but the rose-bush
bloomed as beautifully as ever. The young sparrows now had feathers,
and wanted very much to fly with their mother; but she would not allow
it, and so they had to stay at home. In one of her flights, however it
may have happened, she was caught, before she was aware of it, in a
horse-hair net which some boys had attached to a tree. The
horse-hair was drawn tightly round her leg--as tightly as if the
latter were to be cut off; she was in great pain and terror. The
boys came running up and seized her, and in no gentle way either.

"It's only a sparrow," they said; they did not, however, let her
go, but took her home with them, and every time she cried they hit her
on the beak.

In the farmhouse was an old man who understood making soap into
cakes and balls, both for shaving and washing. He was a merry old man,
always wandering about. On seeing the sparrow which the boys had
brought, and which they said they did not want, he asked, "Shall we
make it look very pretty? "

At these words an icy shudder ran through the sparrow-mother.

Out of his box, in which were the most beautiful colours, the
old man took a quantity of shining leaf-gold, while the boys had to go
and fetch some white of egg, with which the sparrow was to be
smeared all over; the gold was stuck on to this, and the
sparrow-mother was now gilded all over. But she, trembling in every
limb, did not think of the adornment. Then the soap-man tore off a
small piece from the red lining of his old jacket, and cutting it so
as to make it look like a cock's comb, he stuck it to the bird's head.

"Now you will see the gold-jacket fly," said the old man,
letting the sparrow go, which flew away in deadly fear, with the sun
shining upon her. How she glittered! All the sparrows, and even a
crow--and an old boy he was too--were startled at the sight; but still
they flew after her to learn what kind of strange bird she was.

Driven by fear and horror, she flew homeward; she was almost
sinking fainting to the earth, while the flock of pursuing birds
increased, some even attempting to peck at her.

"Look at her! Look at her! " they all cried.

"Look at her! Look at her" cried her little ones, as she
approached the nest. "That is certainly a young peacock, for it
glitters in all colours; it makes one's eyes ache, as mother told
us. Peep! that's 'the beautiful'. " And then they pecked at the bird
with their little beaks so that it was impossible for her to get
into the nest; she was so exhausted that she couldn't even say "Peep! "
much less "I am your own mother! " The other birds, too, now fell
upon the sparrow and plucked off feather after feather until she
fell bleeding into the rose-bush.

"Poor creature! " said all the roses; "only be still, and we will
hide you. Lean your little head against us. "

The sparrow spread out her wings once more, then drew them closely
to her, and lay dead near the neighbouring family, the beautiful fresh
roses.

"Peep! " sounded from the nest. "Where can mother be so long?
It's more than I can understand. It cannot be a trick of hers, and
mean that we are now to take care of ourselves. She has left us the
house as an inheritance; but to which of us is it to belong when we
have families of our own? "

"Yes, it won't do for you to stay with me when I increase my
household with a wife and children,"' said the smallest.

"I daresay I shall have more wives and children than you," said
the second.

"But I am the eldest! " exclaimed the third. Then they all got
excited; they hit out with their wings, pecked with their beaks, and
flop! one after another was thrown out of the nest. There they lay
with their anger, holding their heads on one side and blinking the eye
that was turned upwards. That was their way of looking foolish.

They could fly a little; by practice they learned to improve,
and at last they agreed upon a sign by which to recognise each other
if they should meet in the world later on. It was to be one "Peep! "
and three scratches on the ground with the left foot.

The young one who had remained behind in the nest made himself
as broad as he could, for he was the proprietor. But this greatness
did not last long. In the night the red flames burst through the
window and seized the roof, the dry straw blazed up high, and the
whole house, together with the young sparrow, was burned. The two
others, who wanted to marry, thus saved their lives by a stroke of
luck.

When the sun rose again and everything looked as refreshed as if
it had had a quiet sleep, there only remained of the farmhouse a few
black charred beams leaning against the chimney, which was now its own
master. Thick smoke still rose from the ruins, but the rose-bush stood
yonder, fresh, blooming, and untouched, every flower and every twig
being reflected in the clear water.

"How beautifully the roses bloom before the ruined house,"
exclaimed a passer-by. "A pleasanter picture cannot be imagined. I
must have that. " And the man took out of his portfolio a little book
with white leaves: he was a painter, and with his pencil he drew the
smoking house, the charred beams and the overhanging chimney, which
bent more and more; in the foreground he put the large, blooming
rose-bush, which presented a charming view. For its sake alone the
whole picture had been drawn.

Later in the day the two sparrows who had been born there came by.
"Where is the house? " they asked. "Where is the nest? Peep! All is
burned and our strong brother too. That's what he has now for
keeping the nest. The roses got off very well; there they still
stand with their red cheeks. They certainly do not mourn at their
neighbours' misfortunes. I don't want to talk to them, and it looks
miserable here--that's my opinion. " And away they went.

On a beautiful sunny autumn day--one could almost have believed it
was still the middle of summer--there hopped about in the dry
clean-swept courtyard before the principal entrance of the Hall a
number of black, white, and gaily-coloured pigeons, all shining in the
sunlight. The pigeon-mothers said to their young ones: "Stand in
groups, stand in groups! for that looks much better. "

"What kind of creatures are those little grey ones that run
about behind us? " asked an old pigeon, with red and green in her eyes.
"Little grey ones! Little grey ones! " she cried.

"They are sparrows, and good creatures. We have always had the
reputation of being pious, so we will allow them to pick up the corn
with us; they don't interrupt our talk, and they scrape so prettily
when they bow. "

Indeed they were continually making three foot-scrapings with
the left foot and also said "Peep! " By this means they recognised each
other, for they were the sparrows from the nest on the burned house.

"Here is excellent fare! " said the sparrow. The pigeons strutted
round one another, puffed out their chests mightily, and had their own
private views and opinions.

"Do you see that pouter pigeon? " said one to the other. "Do you
see how she swallows the peas? She eats too many, and the best ones
too. Curoo! Curoo! How she lifts her crest, the ugly, spiteful
creature! Curoo! Curoo! " And the eyes of all sparkled with malice.
"Stand in groups! Stand in groups! Little grey ones, little grey ones!
Curoo, curoo, curoo! "

So their chatter ran on, and so it will run on for thousands of
years. The sparrows ate lustily; they listened attentively, and even
stood in the ranks with the others, but it did not suit them at all.
They were full, and so they left the pigeons, exchanging opinions
about them, slipped in under the garden palings, and when they found
the door leading into the house open, one of them, who was more than
full, and therefore felt brave, hopped on to the threshold. "Peep! "
said he; "I may venture that. "

"Peep! " said the other; "so may I, and something more too! " and he
hopped into the room. No one was there; the third sparrow, seeing
this, flew still farther into the room, exclaiming, "All or nothing!
It is a curious man's nest all the same; and what have they put up
here? What is it? "

Close to the sparrows the roses were blooming; they were reflected
in the water, and the charred beams leaned against the overhanging
chimney. "Do tell me what this is. How comes this in a room at the
Hall? " And all three sparrows wanted to fly over the roses and the
chimney, but flew against a flat wall. It was all a picture, a great
splendid picture, which the artist had painted from a sketch.

"Peep! " said the sparrows, "it's nothing. It only looks like
something. Peep! that is 'the beautiful. ' Do you understand it? I
don't. "

And they flew away, for some people came into the room.

Days and years went by. The pigeons had often cooed, not to say
growled--the spiteful creatures; the sparrows had been frozen in
winter and had lived merrily in summer: they were all betrothed, or
married, or whatever you like to call it. They had little ones, and of
course each one thought his own the handsomest and cleverest; one flew
this way, another that, and when they met they recognised each other
by their "Peep! " and the three scrapes with the left foot. The
eldest had remained an old maid and had no nest nor young ones. It was
her pet idea to see a great city, so she flew to Copenhagen.

There was a large house painted in many gay colours standing close
to the castle and the canal, upon which latter were to be seen many
ships laden with apples and pottery. The windows of the house were
broader at the bottom than at the top, and when the sparrows looked
through them, every room appeared to them like a tulip with the
brightest colours and shades. But in the middle of the tulip stood
white men, made of marble; a few were of plaster; still, looked at
with sparrows' eyes, that comes to the same thing. Up on the roof
stood a metal chariot drawn by metal horses, and the goddess of
Victory, also of metal, was driving. It was Thorwaldsen's Museum.

"How it shines! how it shines! " said the maiden sparrow. "I
suppose that is 'the beautiful. ' Peep! But here it is larger than a
peacock. " She still remembered what in her childhood's days her mother
had looked upon as the greatest among the beautiful.
She flew down
into the courtyard: there everything was extremely fine. Palms and
branches were painted on the walls, and in the middle of the court
stood a great blooming rose-tree spreading out its fresh boughs,
covered with roses, over a grave. Thither flew the maiden sparrow, for
she saw several of her own kind there. A "peep" and three
foot-scrapings--in this way she had often greeted throughout the year,
and no one here had responded, for those who are once parted do not
meet every day; and so this greeting had become a habit with her.
But to-day two old sparrows and a young one answered with a "peep" and
the thrice-repeated scrape with the left foot.

"Ah! Good-day! good-day! " They were two old ones from the nest and
a little one of the family. "Do we meet here? It's a grand place,
but there's not much to eat. This is 'the beautiful. ' Peep! "

Many people came out of the side rooms where the beautiful
marble statues stood and approached the grave where lay the great
master who had created these works of art. All stood with enraptured
faces round Thorwaldsen's grave, and a few picked up the fallen
rose-leaves and preserved them. They had come from afar: one from
mighty England, others from Germany and France. The fairest of the
ladies plucked one of the roses and hid it in her bosom. Then the
sparrows thought that the roses reigned here, and that the house had
been built for their sake. That appeared to them to be really too
much, but since all the people showed their love for the roses, they
did not wish to be behindhand. "Peep! " they said sweeping the ground
with their tails, and blinking with one eye at the roses, they had not
looked at them long before they were convinced that they were their
old neighbours. And so they really were. The painter who had drawn the
rose-bush near the ruined house, had afterwards obtained permission to
dig it up, and had given it to the architect, for finer roses had
never been seen. The architect had planted it upon Thorwaldsen's
grave, where it bloomed as an emblem of 'the beautiful' and yielded
fragrant red rose-leaves to be carried as mementoes to distant lands.

"Have you obtained an appointment here in the city? " asked the
sparrows. The roses nodded; they recognized their grey neighbours
and were pleased to see them again. "How glorious it is to live and to
bloom, to see old friends again, and happy faces every day. It is as
if every day were a festival. " "Peep! " said the sparrows. "Yes, they
are really our old neighbours; we remember their origin near the pond.
Peep! how they have got on. Yes, some succeed while they are asleep.
Ah! there's a faded leaf; I can see that quite plainly. " And they
pecked at it till it fell off. But the tree stood there fresher and
greener than ever; the roses bloomed in the sunshine on
Thorwaldsen's grave and became associated with his immortal name.




THE NIGHTINGALE

In China, you know, the emperor is a Chinese, and all those
about him are Chinamen also. The story I am going to tell you happened
a great many years ago, so it is well to hear it now before it is
forgotten. The emperor's palace was the most beautiful in the world.
It was built entirely of porcelain, and very costly, but so delicate
and brittle that whoever touched it was obliged to be careful. In
the garden could be seen the most singular flowers, with pretty silver
bells tied to them, which tinkled so that every one who passed could
not help noticing the flowers. Indeed, everything in the emperor's
garden was remarkable, and it extended so far that the gardener
himself did not know where it ended. Those who travelled beyond its
limits knew that there was a noble forest, with lofty trees, sloping
down to the deep blue sea, and the great ships sailed under the shadow
of its branches. In one of these trees lived a nightingale, who sang
so beautifully that even the poor fishermen, who had so many other
things to do, would stop and listen. Sometimes, when they went at
night to spread their nets, they would hear her sing, and say, "Oh, is
not that beautiful? " But when they returned to their fishing, they
forgot the bird until the next night. Then they would hear it again,
and exclaim "Oh, how beautiful is the nightingale's song! "

Travellers from every country in the world came to the city of the
emperor, which they admired very much, as well as the palace and
gardens; but when they heard the nightingale, they all declared it
to be the best of all. And the travellers, on their return home,
related what they had seen; and learned men wrote books, containing
descriptions of the town, the palace, and the gardens; but they did
not forget the nightingale, which was really the greatest wonder.
And those who could write poetry composed beautiful verses about the
nightingale, who lived in a forest near the deep sea. The books
travelled all over the world, and some of them came into the hands
of the emperor; and he sat in his golden chair, and, as he read, he
nodded his approval every moment, for it pleased him to find such a
beautiful description of his city, his palace, and his gardens. But
when he came to the words, "the nightingale is the most beautiful of
all," he exclaimed, "What is this? I know nothing of any
nightingale. Is there such a bird in my empire? and even in my garden?
I have never heard of it. Something, it appears, may be learnt from
books. "

Then he called one of his lords-in-waiting, who was so
high-bred, that when any in an inferior rank to himself spoke to
him, or asked him a question, he would answer, "Pooh," which means
nothing.

"There is a very wonderful bird mentioned here, called a
nightingale," said the emperor; "they say it is the best thing in my
large kingdom. Why have I not been told of it? "

"I have never heard the name," replied the cavalier; "she has
not been presented at court. "

"It is my pleasure that she shall appear this evening. " said the
emperor; "the whole world knows what I possess better than I do
myself. "

"I have never heard of her," said the cavalier; "yet I will
endeavor to find her. "

But where was the nightingale to be found? The nobleman went up
stairs and down, through halls and passages; yet none of those whom he
met had heard of the bird. So he returned to the emperor, and said
that it must be a fable, invented by those who had written the book.
"Your imperial majesty," said he, "cannot believe everything contained
in books; sometimes they are only fiction, or what is called the black
art. "

"But the book in which I have read this account," said the
emperor, "was sent to me by the great and mighty emperor of Japan, and
therefore it cannot contain a falsehood. I will hear the
nightingale, she must be here this evening; she has my highest
favor; and if she does not come, the whole court shall be trampled
upon after supper is ended. "

"Tsing-pe! " cried the lord-in-waiting, and again he ran up and
down stairs, through all the halls and corridors; and half the court
ran with him, for they did not like the idea of being trampled upon.
There was a great inquiry about this wonderful nightingale, whom all
the world knew, but who was unknown to the court.

At last they met with a poor little girl in the kitchen, who said,
"Oh, yes, I know the nightingale quite well; indeed, she can sing.
Every evening I have permission to take home to my poor sick mother
the scraps from the table; she lives down by the sea-shore, and as I
come back I feel tired, and I sit down in the wood to rest, and listen
to the nightingale's song. Then the tears come into my eyes, and it is
just as if my mother kissed me. "

"Little maiden," said the lord-in-waiting, "I will obtain for
you constant employment in the kitchen, and you shall have
permission to see the emperor dine, if you will lead us to the
nightingale; for she is invited for this evening to the palace. " So
she went into the wood where the nightingale sang, and half the
court followed her. As they went along, a cow began lowing.

"Oh," said a young courtier, "now we have found her; what
wonderful power for such a small creature; I have certainly heard it
before. "

"No, that is only a cow lowing," said the little girl; "we are a
long way from the place yet. "

Then some frogs began to croak in the marsh.

"Beautiful," said the young courtier again. "Now I hear it,
tinkling like little church bells. "

"No, those are frogs," said the little maiden; "but I think we
shall soon hear her now:" and presently the nightingale began to sing.

"Hark, hark! there she is," said the girl, "and there she sits,"
she added, pointing to a little gray bird who was perched on a bough.

"Is it possible? " said the lord-in-waiting, "I never imagined it
would be a little, plain, simple thing like that. She has certainly
changed color at seeing so many grand people around her. "

"Little nightingale," cried the girl, raising her voice, "our most
gracious emperor wishes you to sing before him. "

"With the greatest pleasure," said the nightingale, and began to
sing most delightfully.

"It sounds like tiny glass bells," said the lord-in-waiting,
"and see how her little throat works. It is surprising that we have
never heard this before; she will be a great success at court. "

"Shall I sing once more before the emperor? " asked the
nightingale, who thought he was present.

"My excellent little nightingale," said the courtier, "I have
the great pleasure of inviting you to a court festival this evening,
where you will gain imperial favor by your charming song. "

"My song sounds best in the green wood," said the bird; but
still she came willingly when she heard the emperor's wish.

The palace was elegantly decorated for the occasion. The walls and
floors of porcelain glittered in the light of a thousand lamps.
Beautiful flowers, round which little bells were tied, stood in the
corridors: what with the running to and fro and the draught, these
bells tinkled so loudly that no one could speak to be heard. In the
centre of the great hall, a golden perch had been fixed for the
nightingale to sit on. The whole court was present, and the little
kitchen-maid had received permission to stand by the door. She was not
installed as a real court cook. All were in full dress, and every
eye was turned to the little gray bird when the emperor nodded to
her to begin. The nightingale sang so sweetly that the tears came into
the emperor's eyes, and then rolled down his cheeks, as her song
became still more touching and went to every one's heart. The
emperor was so delighted that he declared the nightingale should
have his gold slipper to wear round her neck, but she declined the
honor with thanks: she had been sufficiently rewarded already. "I have
seen tears in an emperor's eyes," she said, "that is my richest
reward. An emperor's tears have wonderful power, and are quite
sufficient honor for me;" and then she sang again more enchantingly
than ever.

"That singing is a lovely gift;" said the ladies of the court to
each other; and then they took water in their mouths to make them
utter the gurgling sounds of the nightingale when they spoke to any
one, so that they might fancy themselves nightingales. And the footmen
and chambermaids also expressed their satisfaction, which is saying
a great deal, for they are very difficult to please. In fact the
nightingale's visit was most successful. She was now to remain at
court, to have her own cage, with liberty to go out twice a day, and
once during the night. Twelve servants were appointed to attend her on
these occasions, who each held her by a silken string fastened to
her leg. There was certainly not much pleasure in this kind of flying.

The whole city spoke of the wonderful bird, and when two people
met, one said "nightin," and the other said "gale," and they
understood what was meant, for nothing else was talked of. Eleven
peddlers' children were named after her, but not of them could sing
a note.

One day the emperor received a large packet on which was written
"The Nightingale. " "Here is no doubt a new book about our celebrated
bird," said the emperor. But instead of a book, it was a work of art
contained in a casket, an artificial nightingale made to look like a
living one, and covered all over with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.
As soon as the artificial bird was wound up, it could sing like the
real one, and could move its tail up and down, which sparkled with
silver and gold. Round its neck hung a piece of ribbon, on which was
written "The Emperor of China's nightingale is poor compared with that
of the Emperor of Japan's. "

"This is very beautiful," exclaimed all who saw it, and he who had
brought the artificial bird received the title of "Imperial
nightingale-bringer-in-chief. "

"Now they must sing together," said the court, "and what a duet it
will be. " But they did not get on well, for the real nightingale
sang in its own natural way, but the artificial bird sang only
waltzes.

"That is not a fault," said the music-master, "it is quite perfect
to my taste," so then it had to sing alone, and was as successful as
the real bird; besides, it was so much prettier to look at, for it
sparkled like bracelets and breast-pins. Three and thirty times did it
sing the same tunes without being tired; the people would gladly
have heard it again, but the emperor said the living nightingale ought
to sing something. But where was she? No one had noticed her when
she flew out at the open window, back to her own green woods.

"What strange conduct," said the emperor, when her flight had been
discovered; and all the courtiers blamed her, and said she was a
very ungrateful creature.

"But we have the best bird after all," said one, and then they
would have the bird sing again, although it was the thirty-fourth time
they had listened to the same piece, and even then they had not learnt
it, for it was rather difficult. But the music-master praised the bird
in the highest degree, and even asserted that it was better than a
real nightingale, not only in its dress and the beautiful diamonds,
but also in its musical power. "For you must perceive, my chief lord
and emperor, that with a real nightingale we can never tell what is
going to be sung, but with this bird everything is settled. It can
be opened and explained, so that people may understand how the waltzes
are formed, and why one note follows upon another. "

"This is exactly what we think," they all replied, and then the
music-master received permission to exhibit the bird to the people
on the following Sunday, and the emperor commanded that they should be
present to hear it sing. When they heard it they were like people
intoxicated; however it must have been with drinking tea, which is
quite a Chinese custom. They all said "Oh! " and held up their
forefingers and nodded, but a poor fisherman, who had heard the real
nightingale, said, "it sounds prettily enough, and the melodies are
all alike; yet there seems something wanting, I cannot exactly tell
what. "

And after this the real nightingale was banished from the
empire, and the artificial bird placed on a silk cushion close to
the emperor's bed. The presents of gold and precious stones which
had been received with it were round the bird, and it was now advanced
to the title of "Little Imperial Toilet Singer," and to the rank of
No. 1 on the left hand; for the emperor considered the left side, on
which the heart lies, as the most noble, and the heart of an emperor
is in the same place as that of other people.

The music-master wrote a work, in twenty-five volumes, about the
artificial bird, which was very learned and very long, and full of the
most difficult Chinese words; yet all the people said they had read
it, and understood it, for fear of being thought stupid and having
their bodies trampled upon.

So a year passed, and the emperor, the court, and all the other
Chinese knew every little turn in the artificial bird's song; and
for that same reason it pleased them better. They could sing with
the bird, which they often did. The street-boys sang, "Zi-zi-zi,
cluck, cluck, cluck," and the emperor himself could sing it also. It
was really most amusing.

One evening, when the artificial bird was singing its best, and
the emperor lay in bed listening to it, something inside the bird
sounded "whizz. " Then a spring cracked. "Whir-r-r-r" went all the
wheels, running round, and then the music stopped. The emperor
immediately sprang out of bed, and called for his physician; but
what could he do? Then they sent for a watchmaker; and, after a
great deal of talking and examination, the bird was put into something
like order; but he said that it must be used very carefully, as the
barrels were worn, and it would be impossible to put in new ones
without injuring the music. Now there was great sorrow, as the bird
could only be allowed to play once a year; and even that was dangerous
for the works inside it. Then the music-master made a little speech,
full of hard words, and declared that the bird was as good as ever;
and, of course no one contradicted him.

Five years passed, and then a real grief came upon the land. The
Chinese really were fond of their emperor, and he now lay so ill
that he was not expected to live. Already a new emperor had been
chosen and the people who stood in the street asked the
lord-in-waiting how the old emperor was; but he only said, "Pooh! " and
shook his head.

Cold and pale lay the emperor in his royal bed; the whole court
thought he was dead, and every one ran away to pay homage to his
successor. The chamberlains went out to have a talk on the matter, and
the ladies'-maids invited company to take coffee. Cloth had been
laid down on the halls and passages, so that not a footstep should
be heard, and all was silent and still. But the emperor was not yet
dead, although he lay white and stiff on his gorgeous bed, with the
long velvet curtains and heavy gold tassels. A window stood open,
and the moon shone in upon the emperor and the artificial bird. The
poor emperor, finding he could scarcely breathe with a strange
weight on his chest, opened his eyes, and saw Death sitting there.
He had put on the emperor's golden crown, and held in one hand his
sword of state, and in the other his beautiful banner. All around
the bed and peeping through the long velvet curtains, were a number of
strange heads, some very ugly, and others lovely and gentle-looking.
These were the emperor's good and bad deeds, which stared him in the
face now Death sat at his heart.

"Do you remember this? " "Do you recollect that? " they asked one
after another, thus bringing to his remembrance circumstances that
made the perspiration stand on his brow.

"I know nothing about it," said the emperor. "Music! music! " he
cried; "the large Chinese drum! that I may not hear what they say. "
But they still went on, and Death nodded like a Chinaman to all they
said. "Music! music! " shouted the emperor. "You little precious golden
bird, sing, pray sing! I have given you gold and costly presents; I
have even hung my golden slipper round your neck. Sing! sing! " But the
bird remained silent. There was no one to wind it up, and therefore it
could not sing a note.

Death continued to stare at the emperor with his cold, hollow
eyes, and the room was fearfully still. Suddenly there came through
the open window the sound of sweet music. Outside, on the bough of a
tree, sat the living nightingale. She had heard of the emperor's
illness, and was therefore come to sing to him of hope and trust.
And as she sung, the shadows grew paler and paler; the blood in the
emperor's veins flowed more rapidly, and gave life to his weak
limbs; and even Death himself listened, and said, "Go on, little
nightingale, go on. "

"Then will you give me the beautiful golden sword and that rich
banner? and will you give me the emperor's crown? " said the bird.

So Death gave up each of these treasures for a song; and the
nightingale continued her singing. She sung of the quiet churchyard,
where the white roses grow, where the elder-tree wafts its perfume
on the breeze, and the fresh, sweet grass is moistened by the
mourners' tears. Then Death longed to go and see his garden, and
floated out through the window in the form of a cold, white mist.

"Thanks, thanks, you heavenly little bird. I know you well. I
banished you from my kingdom once, and yet you have charmed away the
evil faces from my bed, and banished Death from my heart, with your
sweet song.