HOW THE BIRDS SAVED THE EMPEROR’S LIFE
There was once an Emperor of China whose palace was the most wonderful in the world, being built entirely of priceless porcelain. In the garden were the most beautiful flowers, on some of which were little golden bells which tinkled in the wind so that you could not help looking at them.
It was a really wonderful garden, and so large that even the Head Gardener himself did not know where it ended. If you should reach the end of the garden you would come to a magnificent forest in which were great trees and deep lakes. The banks sloped down to the water, which was as clear as crystal. Overhanging the lakes were the boughs of some of the trees, which were so large that ships could sail beneath them. In one of these trees there lived a Nightingale which sang so beautifully that a poor fisherman, who had a great deal to do, even stopped his work to listen to the bird singing. “How beautiful it is!” he said, but he had to attend to his duties and then forgot about the bird. But each night it was the same; the fisherman could not resist the temptation and he left his work to listen to the bird.
The Emperor’s palace and garden were so magnificent that many travelers from foreign countries wrote books describing their beauty; but every scholar who wrote said that the finest thing of all was the singing of this Nightingale.
These books were read by many people all over the world, and at last some of them reached the Emperor, who sat in his chair of solid jade and read and read and read. He was very much pleased that so many people who were scholars should write so much about his palace and garden, but he was surprised to find that in each book the Nightingale was spoken of as the finest and most wonderful thing of all.
“It is very strange,” said the Emperor, “I’ve never heard this Nightingale and it does seem unusual that I should know about it for the first time from reading books written by travellers.”
He called his First Lord to him and said, “In all of these books there is mention of a very remarkable bird which is called ‘The Nightingale.’ The writers all say that it is the most glorious thing in my kingdom. How is it that no one has ever told me about it?”
“Why, I don’t know anything about it myself,” said the First Lord, “but I will go and find it.”
The First Lord didn’t know where it was, so he ran all over the palace and asked everybody there, but none of them had ever heard of the Nightingale. Then he returned to the Emperor and said it must be an invention of those who had written the books.