bs again; he listened to the song until the
tears ran down his cheeks; he knew that it was the little real
Nightingale who had flown away from him when the gold nightingale came.

Death was listening to the song, too; and when it was done and the
Emperor begged for more, Death, too, said, "Please sing again, little
Nightingale!"

"Will you give me the Emperor's gold crown for a song?" said the little
Nightingale.

"Yes," said Death; and the little Nightingale bought the Emperor's crown
for a song.

"Oh, sing again, little Nightingale," begged Death.

"Will you give me the Emperor's sceptre for another song?" said the
little grey Nightingale.

"Yes," said Death; and the little Nightingale bought the Emperor's
sceptre for another song.

Once more Death begged for a song, and this time the little Nightingale
obtained the banner for her singing. Then she sang one more song, so
sweet and so sad that it made Death think of his garden in the
churchyard, where he always liked best to be. And he rose from the
Emperor's heart and floated away through the window.

When Death was gone, the Emperor said to the little Nightingale, "Oh,
dear little Nightingale, you have saved me from Death! Do not leave me
again. Stay with me on this little gold perch, and sing to me always!"

"No, dear Emperor," said the little Nightingale, "I sing best when I am
free; I cannot live in a palace. But every night when you are quite
alone, I will come and sit in the window and sing to you, and tell you
everything that goes on in your kingdom: I will tell you where the poor
people are who ought to be helped, and where the wicked people are who
ought to be punished. Only, dear Emperor, be sure that you never let
anybody know that you have a little bird who tells you everything."

After the little Nightingale had flown away, the Emperor felt so well
and strong that he dressed himself in his royal robes and took his gold
sceptre in his hand. And when the courtiers came in to see if he were
dead, there stood the Emperor with his sword in one hand and his sceptre
in the other, and said, "Good-morning!"

FOOTNOTES:

[25] Adapted from Hans Christian Andersen.

MARGERY'S GARDEN[26]

There was once a little girl named Margery, who had always lived in the
city. The flat where her mother and father lived was at the top of a big
building, and you couldn't see a great deal from the windows, except
chimney-pots on other people's roofs. Marger