The artificial bird was placed on a silk cushion close by the Emper-or’s bed；all the gifts it had received，both of gold and precious stones，lay round about it,and，as to titles，why，it had risen to be“High—Impe．rial—Night—Singer”and in rank was No．1 on the left side．for the Em—peror reckoned that side to be the nobler on which the heart lay，and even in an Emperor the heart lies on the left side．And the music master wrOte five and twenty volumes about the artificial bird；his treatise was long and learned and full of the hardest Chinese words，and all the people said they had read and understood it．for otherwise they would have been consid—ered stupid and been trampled upon．
A whole year passed．The Emperor．the Court and all the other Chi—nese knew by heart every little cluck in the artificial bird’S song，but justfor that reason they liked it all the better；they could sing it,too，and theydid SO．The street—boys sang，“Zee—zee—zee!kluk—kluk—kluk!”and the Emperor sang it．Yes，indeed，it was really charming!But one evening，while the artificial bird was singing its best and the Emperor was lying in bed listening tO it，something inside the bird said“sooop”and something went“muutfff!”All the wheels ran round andthe music stopped．The EmPeror at once sprang out of bed and sent for his physician，but what could he do!Then he had the watchmaker fetched and"after agood deal of talking and peeping，he put the bird somewhat to rights，buthe said they must spare it as much as possible．for the machinery was soworn that it was not possible to supply net works which could be reliedupon to go with the music．It was a great grief!Only once a year couldartificial bird be allowed to sing and they were very strict about it e—ven then；but the music master made a little speech full of hard words and said that it was just as good as before，and SO it was just as good as be—fore．
Five years had now passed and the whole land was bowed down bv a great sorrow，for，at heart，they were all devoted to their Emperor．and nOW he was sick and could not live，it was said．A new Emperor had a1．ready been chosen and the people stood in the street and asked the lord——in—waiting how their Emperor was．
Cold and pale lay the Emperor in his large and gorgeous bed．The whole Court thought he was dead and everyone ran to greet the new Em—peror；the valets ran away to talk about it,and the palace serving—．maids had company tO a large coffee—party．Cloth coverings were strewn about the rooms and corridors SO that people might walk softly and therefore it was still，oh，SO still．But the Emperor was not dead yet；stiff and pale he lay in his gorgeous bed with the long velvet curtains and the heavy gold tassels．High above a window stood open and the moon shone in upon the Emperor and the artificial bird．
The poor Emperor could scarcely breathe；it was as if someone were sitting on his chest．He opened his eyes and saw that it was Death who sat upon his breast and had taken up his gold crown and held in one hand the Emperor’S golden saber and in the other his splendid banner．And round about the folds of the large velvet bed——curtains strange——looking heads peeped forth，some quite ugly and others sweet and gentle；they were the Emperor’S good and evil deeds gazing at him now that Death was at his heart“Music，music!”cried the Emperor，“the big Chinese may not hear what they say!”But the figures remained and Death nodded，just like aChinese man．“Music．music!”shrieked the Emperor，“You charming little goldbird，sing，pray do!I have given you gold and precious things；I myselfhave hung my gold slipper round your neck．Sing，I say，sing!”
But the bird remained silent；there was none tO wind it up and it nev。er sang otherwise．And Death kept on looking at the Emperor，and all wasSO still，SO frightfully still．At that very instant the most beautiful song sounded close by thewindow．It came from the little living nightingale which sat upon thebraJlch 0utside．It had heard of the Emperor’S sore need and had there’fore come to sing hope and comfort to his soul，and as it sang the shapesround the bed grew paler and paler，the blood passed more quicklythrough the Emperor’s weak limbs and Death himself listened and said，“Go on．1ittle nightingale，go on!”“Yes；but will you give me the splendid gold saber?Will you giveme the rich banner?Will you give me the Emperor’S crown?’’And Death gave away all these treasures for a song and the nightin’gale kept on singing．It sang of the silent churchyard where the white ro—ses grow，where the elderberry tree scents the air and where the fresh grass is wet with mourners’tears．Then Death felt a longing for his gar-den and swept out of the window like a cold white mist．
“Thanks．thanks!”said the Emperor，“you heavenly little bird!I know you well．T was you I drove out of my realm and yet you havesung the evil visions away from my bedside!How can I reward you?” YOu haVe rewarded me，”said the nightingale．“I drew tears from your eyes the first time I sang，that I shall never forget；those are jewels which rejoice a singer’s heart．But go to sleep IIOW and get well andstrong!1 will sing to you!”
As it sang the Emperor fell into a sweet sleep，such a soft，refreshing sleep．
The sun was shining in upon him through all the windows when he awOke，strong and hale．Not one of his servants had yet come back，fort11ev fancied he was dead，but the nightingale still sat and sang·
“You must stay with me always!”said the Emperor，“you shall on。ly sing when you like and 1 will break the artificial bird into a thousand pieces．’’
