will ever discover my misfortune."

Now this was an excellent scheme, but it was not so easy to carry it out
as the Nightingale had thought. For the Blindworm was very timid and
kept himself carefully hidden in his burrow of soft soil, as if he half
suspected the Nightingale's plans. Day after day the Nightingale kept
eager watch upon his movements, and at last, on the very eve of the
wedding, when she had almost given up hope, she spied the Blindworm
sound asleep on the moss under a tall tree.

"Ha!" said the Nightingale to herself very softly. "Now is my chance!"
She fluttered into the top of the oak tree, and from there hopped down
from branch to branch, from twig to twig, until she was directly over
the sleeper's ugly head, over the one closed eye. Then _whirr_! Down
she pounced upon the Blindworm. And before the creature had a chance to
know what was happening, the Nightingale had stolen his eye, and had
popped it into place in the empty socket on the other side of her beak.

"Ha, ha!" she sang merrily. "Now I have two bright eyes, as good as any
one's. Now I can go to Jenny Wren's wedding as gayly as I please, and no
one shall see more of the ceremony than I. I shall be able to tell just
exactly how the bride is dressed, how every little feather is arranged,
and how she looks after Parson Crow has pronounced the blessing. Oh, how
happy I am!"

But the poor Blindworm, blind indeed from that day forth, began to cry
and lament, begging the Nightingale to give him back his eye.

"Nay," said the Nightingale, "did you not laugh at me when you saw me
sadly sitting on the tree, mourning because I could not go to the
wedding? Now I have stolen your eye, and I can see famously. But you
will never again see me sitting sadly on the tree."

Then the Blindworm grew very angry. "I will get the eye back!" he cried.
"I will steal it from you, as you stole it from me, some time when you
are asleep. I will climb up into your nest some night, and I will take
both your eyes of which you are so proud. Then you will be blind,
wholly blind as I am now."

At these threatening words the Nightingale ceased to sing and became
silent with fear. For she knew that the Blindworm would do as he said.
But again a brilliant thought came to her.

"Nay!" she trilled gladly. "That you shall never do. I will never sleep
again. I will keep awake always, night and day, with my two bright eyes
ever looking out for danger. Yes, yes, yes! No one sha