Nightingale sings with sweet voice. Her voice is very nice to ear very happy.

Once upon a time in the Chinese emperor’s garden there lived a nightingale. It was plain to look at but sang beautifully. People who heard it admired the bird. They said there was nothing in the world as melodious as this nightingale’s song.

When the emperor heard, he sent his men to bring the bird to his court for sinning to him and his courtiers.

The nightingale went gladly and sang sweetly for t5hem. It loved to sing. The bird’s signing brought tears to the emperor’s eyes and a smile to his lips.

`` I must have this bird with me always’’, he said.

Emperor told his servants to put it in a cage, and let it be out only twice a day. Everyday, the bird sang nicely for the emperor and his courtiers.

One day, the emperor got a present. It was a clock-bird with machinery fixed inside. All the courtiers crowded around to see it.

`` look’, they said, ``isn’t it a marvelous invention? If you wind it up, it can sing!’’

They were so thrilled with the clock-nightingale that they forget the real nightingale. All the day long they played with toy nightingale. All the day they wound it and all day it sang its own tune.

Meanwhile, the real nightingale flew away. One day, the emperor asked for it but it wasn’t there ``Never mind, your Majesty,’’ said the courtiers. ``The clock-nightingale is much grader and costs more. The real nightingale is an ordinary bird. Besides, it is disrespectful and ungrateful’’. So they continued to wind the clock-nightingale and play with it. One day, they wound it up so tight that the spring broke. It lay in a corner, very quite.

Five days passed. One day a visitor came to the emperor. His name was death. The emperor lay ill in bed. The doctor could not cure him. All his courtiers thought he was dead and left him and went away. He was alone now with death. He was lonely, frightened, sad and very ill.

`` I wish I had music to comfort me,’’ he said. `I wish my little nightingale would come back!’’

The emperor remembered it with tears in his eyes, and as he did so, he heard it signing. The emperor looked out of the window. There was the small bird sitting on a branch. It was singing for the emperor, singing so wonderfully that even death listened.

 


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