ANCIENT CHINA was the most beautiful place in the world—and the most beautiful thing in it was the song of the Nightingale in the forest by the sea.

When the Emperor heard the Nightingale sing, her song brought tears to his eyes. He ordered a gold cage for her, so that she could live at court from now on. Soon the Nightingale was all anyone ever talked about.

One day, a present arrived for the Emperor, a gift from the Emperor of Japan. It was an artificial nightingale that turned around and even played a little tune. The people at court were so thrilled with it that they hardly noticed when the real one flew away, back to her own green woods.

Everyone agreed that the artificial bird was better anyway. They played it over and over again until one day it broke. It was almost worn out, and from then on it could only be played once a year.

Years later, the Emperor was dying. He lay in bed, all alone, haunted by the memories of all his good deeds and all his bad deeds. Death hovered, ready to take the Emperor away. Suddenly, at the window, the real Nightingale began to sing. Her song chased away the Emperor's fears, and brought him strength. Death was filled with a longing for his garden, his home. He changed into a cold white mist and floated out the window.

"You saved my life," said the Emperor. "Take my gold cape."

"I don’t want a reward," answered the Nightingale. "I want to be your friend."

In the morning the servants tip-toed in, expecting to see their dead Emperor's body, but there he was, all better. Healthy and happy, he called out to them: "Good Morning!"