# The Jade Story Book/Chapter 1

THE JADE STORY BOOK
HOW THE BIRDS SAVED THE EMPEROR'S LIFE
There was once an Emperor of China whose palace was the most wonderful in the world, being built entirely of priceless porcelain. In the garden were the most beautiful flowers, on some of which were little golden bells which tinkled in the wind so that you could not help looking at them.
It was a really wonderful garden, and so large that even the Head Gardener himself did not know where it ended. If you should reach the end of the garden you would come to a magnificent forest in which were great trees and deep lakes. The banks sloped down to the water, which was as clear as crystal. Overhanging the lake were the boughs of some of the trees, which were so large that ships could sail beneath them. In one of these trees there lived a Nightingale which sang so beautifully that a poor fisherman, who had a great deal to do, even stopped his work to listen to the bird singing. "How ​beautiful it is!" he said, but he had to attend to his duties and then forgot about the bird. But each night it was the same; the fisherman could not resist the temptation and he left his work to listen to the bird.
The Emperor's palace and garden were so magnificent that many travelers from foreign countries wrote books describing their beauty; but every scholar who wrote said that the finest thing of all was the singing of this Nightingale.
These books were read by many people all over the world, and at last some of them reached the Emperor, who sat in his chair of solid jade and read and read and read. He was very much pleased that so many people who were scholars should write so much about his palace and garden, but he was surprised to find that in each book the Nightingale was spoken of as the finest and most wonderful thing of all.
"It is very strange," said the Emperor, "I've never heard this Nightingale and it does seem unusual that I should know about it for the first time from reading books written by travellers."
​He called his First Lord to him and said, "In all of these books there is mention of a very remarkable bird which is called 'The Nightingale.' The writers all say that it is the most glorious thing in my kingdom. How is it that no one has ever told me about it?"
"Why, I don't know anything about it myself," said the First Lord, "but I will go and find it."
The First Lord didn't know where it was, so he ran all over the palace and asked everybody there, but none of them had ever heard of the Nightingale. Then he returned to the Emperor and said it must be an invention of those who had written the books.
"Your Royal Highness must know that not all that is written is true, and that much of it is invented," said he.
"But the last book I read," said the Emperor, "was sent to me by the great ruler of Japan, so that it must be true, and I insist upon your bringing the Nightingale here this evening; if you do not, every one in this palace shall be trampled under foot."
"All right, your Majesty," said the First ​Lord; and he ran up and down the stairs, through halls and corridors, and as he told the people what would happen to them if the Nightingale were not brought there that evening they all followed him, because they had no wish to be trampled under foot, and all were most curious to know about this wonderful Nightingale which it seemed that everybody in the world knew about except those who lived in the palace.
At last they met a poor little girl in the kitchen who said, "Why, I know the Nightingale, and I have often heard her sing. Every night when I go home to my Mother I am so tired that I sit and rest for a little while in the wood, and then I hear the Nightingale sing, and it is so wonderful that it always brings tears to my eyes."
"Then," said the First Lord, "little kitchen maid, if you can lead us to this Nightingale you shall have leave to see the Emperor at dinner this evening, for she is invited by His Majesty to come and sing to him." Then they all went into the garden where the Nightingale lived, and on the way they heard the mooing of a cow.
​"Oh, this must be the Nightingale! How wonderful that such a little bird has such a tremendous voice!" said they.
"That is not a bird singing, that is a cow mooing," said the little kitchen maid. "We have a long way to go yet."
A little farther on they heard some frogs croaking in the marsh. The Chinese Chaplain was with them and he said, "How sublime! That is just like the ringing of a church bell."
"Why," said the little kitchen maid, "those are frogs croaking, but very soon we shall hear her."
Just then the Nightingale began to sing.
"Hark!" cried the little girl. "Listen!" and pointing to a little bird sitting up in the branches, said, "There she is."
"It doesn't seem possible that so very common looking a bird as that can sing," said the First Lord. "It must be that she has lost her brilliant plumage because there are so many distinguished people here."
Then the little kitchen maid called out, "Little Nightingale, our gracious Emperor invites you to sing before him this evening!"
​"It will give me great pleasure to do so," said the Nightingale; and then she began to sing so gloriously that they were all entranced. The First Lord said, "I have never heard anything so beautiful before. His Majesty will be delighted."
The Nightingale, thinking the First Lord was the Emperor, said, "Shall I sing again for your Majesty?"
"My dear little bird," said the First Lord, His Most Gracious Highness has sent me to invite you to his palace this evening so that he may listen to your charming song."
"It's much better out here in the forest," replied the Nightingale, but when she heard that the Emperor wished her to go to the palace, she gladly offered to go with them.
At the palace everything was splendidly prepared. The many lights made the porcelain walls and floors glitter, and the gorgeous tinkling flowers helped to make the place look very beautiful. The people moving back and forth caused the little golden bells to tinkle all the time. In the center of the great hall, in which was the Emperor's throne, was a golden perch, put there for ​the Nightingale. The whole court was present, and the little kitchen maid, who had shown the First Lord where the bird could be found, was allowed to stand behind the door where she could see and hear everything. All were dressed in their best clothes and everyone looked toward the little bird, whom the Emperor requested to commence singing.
And how the Nightingale did sing! Very soon the tears came into the Emperor's eyes and ran down his cheeks. At this the Nightingale sang even more beautifully, and the heart of everyone was touched. The Emperor was so delighted that he said she should wear the golden necklace around her neck, but the Nightingale said that she had already received a sufficient reward, for she had brought tears to the eyes of the Emperor.
Even the servants, who were always most difficult to please, said that they were greatly touched. This in itself proved how successful was the Nightingale's concert.
The Emperor requested her to stay at the court, and he gave her a large golden cage and allowed her to go out twice every ​day. He provided her with twelve servants, each of whom held a silken string which was fastened to her leg, and you may be sure that she found but little pleasure flying about, hampered in this way.
Very soon everyone in the city was talking about the wonderful bird, and even the tradesmen's children were all named after her, although none of them could sing a note.
Some time after this the Emperor received a large parcel on which was written "The Nightingale."
"This must be another book about our famous bird," said the Emperor.
But he was mistaken, for it was a mechanical toy, an artificial Nightingale which looked something like a real bird but was covered with jewels. When it was wound up it could sing the piece the real bird sang, and moved its tail up and down. Around its neck was a collar on which was written: "The Nightingale of the Emperor of Japan cannot be compared with that of the Emperor of China."
"How wonderful!" said everyone, and the man who had brought the clock-work bird ​was given the title of "Bringer of the Imperial First Nightingale."
They sang together, but it did not sound well, for the real Nightingale sang her own song, and the clock-work bird sang waltzes.
"It isn't its fault!" said the bandmaster. "It keeps very good time and is quite after my style."
Then the artificial bird had to sing alone. It was very pleasant to listen to, and it was also pretty to look at, as the jewels with which it was covered sparkled so. It sang the same piece many times without becoming tired, and then the Emperor thought that the real Nightingale should sing again. But she was not to be found; the window was open and without anybody seeing her go, she had flown away to her beloved forest.
The Emperor was very angry when it was discovered that the real bird had gone away, and everyone agreed that it was a very ungracious thing for her to have done. But they all said that the bird sent by the Japanese ruler was the better of the two, and especially did the bandmaster praise it. He said that one knew just what to expect from the ​artificial bird, but the real one would sing the most unusual tunes. The bird they had now could be opened, and the inside shown and explained, but if this were done to the other it would die.
Everyone agreed that what the bandmaster said was correct, and the Emperor commanded that all the people of the city should be allowed to listen to the bird's beautiful music on a certain day of the following week.
So on the day appointed the bandmaster showed the jeweled bird to the people, and after they had heard it sing everyone said that its music was wonderful, that is all but the poor fisherman who had heard the real one, and he said: "This one looks very pretty and is quite pleasant to listen to, but its singing does not compare with that of the other."
The Emperor banished the real bird from the kingdom, and the artificial one was put on a golden perch by the side of his bed, and was given the title of Imperial Night-singer.
Several months passed away when one ​evening, as the Emperor lay in bed listening to it, something inside snapped, and the music stopped. The Royal Physician was summoned, but could do nothing. Then the Royal Clockmaker was called, and after examining it very carefully he took out the works, which he found to be almost worn out. It took him quite a long time to put these back again, but at last he got it into something like order, although he said it must not be used more than once a year, and then only for a very short time.
Some time after this the Emperor became very ill, and as the physicians said that he could not live for more than a few days, his successor was chosen.
The poor Emperor lay all alone in his great bed, and as everyone believed him to be dead the courtiers left him to pay their respects to the new ruler. But he was only in a trance, and when he came out of this he felt very lonely indeed, for there was no one to speak to him. He turned his head and saw the artificial bird by his bedside. A great longing for music came over him, ​and he cried: "Sing, golden bird! Please sing!"
But there was no one to wind it up, and he was too weak to do this himself. It was so quiet, and he felt so terribly lonely and sad that he was sure he was going to die.
Suddenly there came through the open window the sound of such beautiful music that new life came to the sick man. He raised his head, and saw, sitting upon the bough of a large tree, the real bird whom he had banished from his kingdom.
"What divine singing!" said the Emperor. "You have given me new life in return for my unkindness in banishing you from my kingdom. What can I do to reward you?"
"I need no more reward than the sight of the tears which came to your eyes when I first sang to you," said the Nightingale. "That is something which I can never forget. But now you must sleep, and to-morrow, when you will feel much stronger, I can promise you such music as you would not believe possible." The Emperor smiled happily, and fell at once into a deep, calm sleep.
​He was awakened in the morning by the sun, which was shining brightly. So much better did he feel that he was able to get out of bed and walk to the open window, and there his eyes beheld a wonderful sight.
Upon every bough of the tree in front of him were perched many birds, and in the center of them sat the poor fisherman, who held to his lips a reed instrument. On seeing the Emperor at the window he gave a sign, and there came forth from the throats of the assembled birds such a glorious burst of melody that tears of thankfulness flowed from the Emperor's eyes; he could scarcely believe that such wonderful music was possible.
No longer was he a sick man. The bird chorus had brought back to him the health and strength which all the doctors, with their medicines, had not been able to do. In his gratitude to the birds he gave them the tree for their very own, and the poor fisherman he appointed bandmaster-in-chief.
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