leg, and which they all held tightly. There was no pleasure at all in that kind of outing.
The whole city was talking of the wonderful bird, and when two of the inhabitants met, one would merely say "Nightin—," and the other "gale," and then they sighed and understood each other. Yes, the children of eleven buttermen were named after him, but not one of them could sing a note.
One day a large parcel arrived for the emperor, and on the outside was written: "Nightingale."
"Here we have a new book about our celebrated bird!" said the emperor; but it was not a book, it was a small mechanical toy, which lay in a box—an artificial nightingale, which had been made to look exactly like the living one, but was set with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. As soon as the artificial bird had been wound up, it began to sing one of the songs of the real bird, while the tail moved up and down, sparkling with silver and gold. Around its neck hung a small ribbon on which was written: The Emperor of Japan's nightingale is poor compared with the Emperor of China's."
"It is beautiful!" exclaimed all; and he who had brought the artificial bird received at once the title of "Imperial Nightingale-Carrier-in-Chief."
"Now they must sing together! What a duet it will be!"
And so they had to sing together; but they did not get on well, for the real nightingale sang in his own way, while the artificial bird was dependent upon its barrels.
"It's not its fault," said the musical director; "it keeps time beautifully, and sings quite in my style." So the artificial bird was to sing alone. It had just as much success as the real bird, and then it was so much prettier to look at; it glittered like diamond bracelets and brooches.
It sang the same piece thirty-three times over, and still it was not tired; the audience would have liked to hear it from the beginning again, but the emperor thought that the living nightingale ought also to sing a little—but where was he? Nobody had noticed that he had flown out through the open window, away into his green forest.
"But what's the meaning of this?" said the emperor; and all the courtiers began abusing the nightingale, saying he was a most ungrateful creature.
"But we have the best bird after all!" they said; and so the artificial bird had to sing again, and they heard the same piece tor the thirty-fourth time, but still they did not know it, for it was rather difficult to learn, and the musical director was loud in his praises of the bird; nay, he even protested that it was better than the real nightingale, not only as regards its attire, and its many beautiful diamonds, but also with regard to its internal arrangements.
"For you must know, ladies and gentlemen, and, above all, your
