The Nightingale

The Nightingale is a written by the Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen.

Writ
In China, as thou likely knowest, the is a Chinishman, and all his  are also Chinishmen. The tale I am going to tell thee happened many years ago, but it is worthwhile to listen to it before it is forgotten. The Coaser's was the greatest of the world, all made of  porcelain, but so brittle and  that one must take great care on how one  it. In the garden were the wonderfullest blossoms, and on the loveliest of them were tied silver bells that tinkled so that if one went by, one could not help looking at the blossoms. Everything in the Coaser's garden was hendly set up, and the garden was so great that even the gardener himself did not know where it ended. If one ever got beyond it, one came to a lovely with great trees and deep lakes in it. The wold went straight down to the sea, which was blue and deep. Great ships could sail under the trees' boughs, and in these trees lived a Nightingale. She sang so blessedly that even the fisherman who had so much to do stood and listened when he came at night to pull up his nets. "How it is!" he said, but he had to go to his work, and forgot about the bird. But when she sang the next night, and the fisherman came there again, he said the same thing again, "How sheen it is!".

From all the world's lands came to the Coaser's town, who  the raked and the garden. But when they heard the Nightingale, they all said, "That is truly the best!".

The wayfarers told all about it when they went home, and learned scholars wrote many books about the town, the raked, and the garden. But they did not forget the Nightingale; she was set, and all the wrote  leeths about the Nightingale in the wold by the deep sea.

The books went throughout the world, and some of them reached the Coaser. He sat in his golden, and read and read. He nodded his head every, for he liked reading the  of the town, the raked, and the garden. "But the Nightingale was the !", he saw written.

"What is that?" asked the Coaser. "I know nothing about the Nightingale! Is there such a bird in my, and so near as in my garden? I have never heard of it! One must learn of this for the first time from a book!"

And he called his First Lord to him. He was so proud that if anyone of lower standing than his own talked to him or asked him anything, he would say nothing but "P!", which does not mean anything.

"Here is a most bird that is called a Nightingale!" said the Coaser. "They say she is the allerbest in my great coaserdom! Why has no one ever said anything to me about her?"

"I have never heard of her," said the First Lord. "She has never been shown at ."

"I want her to come here tonight and sing to me!" said the Coaser. "The whole world knows what I have, and I do not know!"

"I have never heard of her!" said the First Lord. "I will look for her and find her!"

But where was she to be found? The First Lord ran up and down stairs, through the rooms and hallways, but none of those he met had ever heard of the Nightingale. And the First Lord ran again to the Coaser, and told him that it must be a of those who had written the books. "Thy Majesty cannot believe all that is written. It is  and something called the black !"

"But the book in which I read this," said the Coaser, "is sent me by His Great Majesty the Coaser of Japan, so it cannot be untrue, and I will hear the Nightingale! She must be here this evening! She has my highest ! If she does not come, then the whole hird shall be trampled upon after !"

"Tsing pe!" said the First Lord, and he ran up and down stairs, through the rooms and hallways, and half the hird ran with him, for they did not want to be trampled upon. All were asking after the ferly Nightingale, whom all the world knew of, but those at hird.

At last, they met an arm little maiden in the kitchen, who said “Oh! I know the nightingale well. Oh, how she sings! Every evening, I have to take home the scraps from the hird to my arm sick mother; she lives down at the beach, and when I go back home, tired, rest in the wold, and then I hear the Nightingale sing! Then tears come into my eyes, and it is as if my mother kissed me!”

“Little kitchenmaid!” said the First Lord. “I will give thee a in the kitchen, and thou shalt have leave to see the Coaser  if thou canst lead us to the Nightingale, for she is called for this evening.”

And so they all went into the wold where the Nightingale was wont to sing, and half the hird went too. When they were on the way, a cow began to low.

“Oh!” said the hirdmen. “Now we have her! What a ferly for such a small ! I have heard it before!”

“No, that is a cow lowing!” said the little kitchenmaid. “We are still far away from the !”

Then the frogs croaked in the marsh.

“Wonderful!” said the Chinish. “Now we hear her; it like a little church-bell!”

“No, those are frogs!” said the little kitchenmaid. “But now, I think we shall soon hear her!”

Then the Nightingale began to sing.

“There she is!” said the little maiden. “Listen, listen! There she sits!”

And she to a little gray bird on the branches.

“Is it !” said the First Lord. “I should have never thought it! How she looks! She must iwis have lost her from seeing so many  men  her!”

“Little Nightingale,” called out the little kitchenmaid, “our Coaser wishes thee to sing before him!”

“With the greatest !” said the Nightingale and sang.

“It sweys like glass bells!” said the First Lord. “And see how her little throat works! It is weird that we have never heard her before! She will be a success at hird!”

“Shall I sing once more before the Coaser?” asked the Nightingale, thinking that the Coaser was there.

“My torghtly little nightingale,” said the First Lord, “I have the great glee to thee to hird this evening, where thou wilt bewitch His Esty Coaserly Majesty with thy  song!"

"It sweys best in the green wood," said the Nightingale, but still, she came gladly when she heard the Coaser had wished it.

At the raked, everything was torghtly readied. The porcelain walls and floors glittered in the light of many thousand gold ; the loveliest blossoms that tinkled out well were put in the hallways. There was a hurrying and a draft, and all the bells so jingled that one could not hear oneself speak. In the middle of the great hall, where the Coaser sat, was a golden perch, on which the Nightingale should sit. The whole hird was there, and the little kitchenmaid was to stand behind the door, now that she was a hird-cook. Everyone was clad in his best, and everyone was looking toward the little gray bird to whom the Coaser nodded.

The Nightingale sang so liefsomely that tears came into the Coaser's eyes and ran down his cheeks. Then the Nightingale sang even more sheenly; it went right to the heart. The Coaser was so glad that he said that she should wear his golden slipper umb her neck. But the Nightingale thanked him and said that she had had enough already.

"I have seen tears in the Coaser's eyes—that is for me the richest ! A Coaser's tears have a wonderful might, and God knows I am meeded enough!" Then she sang again with her sweet, blessed voice.

"That is the most galing that I know!" said the ladies. And then they took water into their mouths, so that they might gurgle when anyone talked to them. Then they thought themselves nightingales. Yes, the lackeys and the chambermaids that they were, which means a great deal, for they are the hardest to queme. In short, the Nightingale was a true success. She must now at hird; she had her own cage and leave to to walk out twice in the day and once at night. She was given twelve servants, who each had a silken string that was fastened umb her leg. There was little glee in flying about like this.

The whole town was talking about the wonderful bird, and when two people met each other, one would say "Nightin", and the other "Gale", and then they would both sigh and understand each other. Yes, and eleven grocer's children were called after her, but not one of them could sing a note.