kingdom had been tried, and nothing would do him any good. At
last he persuaded them to let him lie quietly in his room, where
no one came to trouble him.

Perhaps the worst pain he had to bear was a sort of weight on his
chest, which made it very hard for him to breathe. So he
commanded his servants to leave the windows open in order that he
might get more air. One day, when he had been left alone for a
few minutes, a bird with brilliant plumage came and fluttered
round the window, and finally rested on the sill. His feathers
were sky-blue and gold, his feet and his beak of such glittering
rubies that no one could bear to look at them, his eyes made the
brightest diamonds look dull, and on his head he wore a crown. I
cannot tell you what the crown was made of, but I am quite
certain that it was still more splendid than all the rest. As to
his voice I can say nothing about that, for the bird never sang
at all. In fact, he did nothing but gaze steadily at the King,
and as he gazed, the King felt his strength come back to him. In
a little while the bird flew into the room, still with his eyes
fixed on the King, and at every glance the strength of the sick
man became greater, till he was once more as well as he used to
be before the Queen died. Filled with joy at his cure, he tried
to seize the bird to whom he owed it all, but, swifter than a
swallow, it managed to avoid him. In vain he described the bird
to his attendants, who rushed at his first call; in vain they
sought the wonderful creature both on horse and foot, and
summoned the fowlers to their aid: the bird could nowhere be
found. The love the people bore King Peridor was so strong, and
the reward he promised was so large, that in the twinkling of an
eye every man, woman, and child had fled into the fields, and the