THE BRONZE RING
ONCE upon a time in a certain country there lived a king whose palace was surrounded by a spacious garden. But, though the gardeners were many and the soil was good, this garden yielded neither flowers nor fruits, not even grass or shady trees.
The King was in despair about it when a wise old man said to him:
‘Your gardeners do not understand their business: but what can you expect of men whose fathers were cobblers and carpenters? How should they have learnt to cultivate your garden?’
‘You are quite right,’ cried the King.
‘Therefore,’ continued the old man, ‘you should send for a gardener whose father and grandfather have been gardeners before him, and very soon your garden will be full of green grass and gay flowers, and you will enjoy its delicious fruit.’
So the King sent messengers to every town, village, and hamlet in his dominions, to look for a gardener whose forefathers had been gardeners also, and after forty days one was found.
‘Come with us and be gardener to the King,’ they said to him.
‘How can I go to the King,’ said the gardener, ‘a poor wretch like me?’
‘That is of no consequence,’ they answered. ‘Here are new clothes for you and your family.’
‘But I owe money to several people.’
‘We will pay your debts,’ they said.
So the gardener allowed himself to be persuaded, and went away with the messengers, taking his wife and his son with him; and the King, delighted to have found a real gardener, entrusted him with the care of his garden. The man found no difficulty in making the royal garden produce flowers and fruit, and at the end of a year the park was not like the same place, and the King showered gifts upon his new servant.
