to be seen in the garden; the most beautiful ones had little silver
bells tied to them, which tinkled perpetually, so that one should not
pass the flowers without looking at them. Every little detail in the
garden had been most carefully thought out, and it was so big, that even
the gardener himself did not know where it ended. If one went on
walking, one came to beautiful woods with lofty trees and deep lakes.
The wood extended to the sea, which was deep and blue, deep enough for
large ships to sail up right under the branches of the trees. Among
these trees lived a nightingale, which sang so deliciously, that even
the poor fisherman, who had plenty of other things to do, lay still to
listen to it, when he was out at night drawing in his nets. 'Heavens,
how beautiful it is!' he said, but then he had to attend to his business
and forgot it. The next night when he heard it again he would again
exclaim, 'Heavens, how beautiful it is!'

Travellers came to the emperor's capital, from every country in the
world; they admired everything very much, especially the palace and the
gardens, but when they heard the nightingale they all said, 'This is
better than anything!'

When they got home they described it, and the learned ones wrote many
books about the town, the palace and the garden; but nobody forgot the
nightingale, it was always put above everything else. Those among them
who were poets wrote the most beautiful poems, all about the nightingale
in the woods by the deep blue sea. These books went all over the world,
and in course of time some of them reached the emperor. He sat in his
golden chair reading and reading, and nodding his head, well pleased to
hear such beautiful descriptions of the town, the palace and the garden.
'But the nightingale is the best of all,' he read.