ething inside the bird
sounded "whizz." Then a spring cracked. "Whir-r-r-r" went all the
wheels, running round, and then the music stopped. The emperor
immediately sprang out of bed, and called for his physician; but
what could he do? Then they sent for a watchmaker; and, after a
great deal of talking and examination, the bird was put into something
like order; but he said that it must be used very carefully, as the
barrels were worn, and it would be impossible to put in new ones
without injuring the music. Now there was great sorrow, as the bird
could only be allowed to play once a year; and even that was dangerous
for the works inside it. Then the music-master made a little speech,
full of hard words, and declared that the bird was as good as ever;
and, of course no one contradicted him.

Five years passed, and then a real grief came upon the land. The
Chinese really were fond of their emperor, and he now lay so ill
that he was not expected to live. Already a new emperor had been
chosen and the people who stood in the street asked the
lord-in-waiting how the old emperor was; but he only said, "Pooh!" and
shook his head.

Cold and pale lay the emperor in his royal bed; the whole court
thought he was dead, and every one ran away to pay homage to his
successor. The chamberlains went out to have a talk on the matter, and
the ladies'-maids invited company to take coffee. Cloth had been
laid down on the halls and passages, so that not a footstep should
be heard, and all was silent and still. But the emperor was not yet
dead, although he lay white and stiff on his gorgeous bed, with the
long velvet curtains and heavy gold tassels. A window stood open,
and the moon shone in upon the emperor and the artificial bird. The
poor emperor, finding he could scarcely breathe with a strange
weight on his chest, opened his eyes, and saw Death sitting there.
He had put on the emperor's golden crown, and held in one hand his
sword of state, and in the other his beautiful banner. All around
the bed and peeping through the long velvet curtains, were a number of
strange heads, some very ugly, and others lovely and gentle-looking.
These were the emperor's good and bad deeds, which stared him in the
face now Death sat at his heart.

"Do you remember this?" "Do you recollect that?" they asked one
after another, thus bringing to his remembrance circumstances that
made the perspiration stand on his brow.

"I know nothing about it," said the