"One of these wreaths." said the queen, "is made of flowers plucked
from your garden. The other is made of artificial flowers, shaped and
colored by a skillful artist. Now, tell me, O King, which is the true,
and which is the false?"

The king, for once, was puzzled. He stroked his chin. He looked at the
wreaths from every side. He frowned. He bit his lips.

"Which is the true?" the queen again asked.

Still the king did not answer.

"I have heard that you are the wisest man in the world," she said,
"and surely this simple thing ought not to puzzle you."

The king moved uneasily on his golden throne. His officers and great
men shook their heads. Some would have smiled, if they had dared.

"Look at the flowers carefully," said the queen, "and let us have your
answer."

Then the king remembered something. He remembered that close by his
window there was a climbing vine filled with beautiful sweet flowers.
He remembered that he had seen many bees flying among these flowers
and gathering honey from them.

So he said, "Open the window!"

It was opened. The queen was standing quite near to it with the two
wreaths still in her hands. All eyes were turned to see why the king