II
The next morning the Emperor waked up very early. A little bird was singing in the garden. It was a lovely day.
The Emperor thought he would go out into the garden to hear the little bird sing.
He put on his silk dressing-gown, his silver shoes, and his gold crown. It was only six o’clock, so no one was awake in the palace.
When the Emperor went into the garden the bird flew into the forest and sang still more sweetly.
“How stupid I was,” thought the Emperor, “I ought to have commanded it to stay here. Now I must go into the woods to see it.”
So he opened the gate and went across the field.
At the edge of the woods a peasant was plowing.
“Good morning, peasant,” said the Emperor, “That must be an Emperor bird singing in the forest, because it sings so sweetly.”
“No, my lord,” said the peasant, taking off his cap, “that is a blackbird.”
“You may call it so,” said the Emperor; “but it is an Emperor bird if I say so, because I am always right. It is as large as a swan, and its feathers are like shining gold.”
“No, my lord,” said the peasant, “it is small and black.”
Just then the blackbird lighted on a post in the fence and began to sing. It was easy to see that the peasant was right.
“There must surely be something wrong,” said the Emperor, “because I never make a mistake.”
“But, my lord, the Emperor can make a mistake. Every one does that. Your attendants may say that you are always right because they wish to please you. Perhaps they even praise what you do, when it is wrong and foolish.”
“I can never believe that,” said the Emperor.
“If you will do as I say,” replied the peasant, “I will prove that I have told you the truth.”