er, and Rosedrop saw through her tears, which
she shed for the first and only time, Isal's spirit floating upward. She
clasped it to her bosom and darted to the Phoenix.

"It is the hour!" said the Bird, before Rosedrop had returned. "My life
is closed. I have lived five hundred years." He plucked a golden feather
from his breast, and lighted the nest of spices on which he reclined.
The smoke rose slowly, enveloping him in it, while the Tufters, overcome
with grief, forgot their manners, and stood on both legs peering into
the smoke. At that moment Rosedrop, with the spirit of Isal, darted into
the circle. The Phoenix saw her.

"Lay the spirit in the nest," said he, and Rosedrop heedless of the fire
which burned her beautiful body, laid Isal's spirit in the nest by the
Phoenix.

"It is enough!" said the Phoenix. "I am perishing, but another
Phoenix shall arise and the spirit of Isal shall live in it. Isal is
the Phoenix that is to be. I die but she shall live."

As he said it, there was a smouldering in the nest; a heap of embers
enveloped in smoke lay before the Tufters; in a moment the smoke parted
and out of the embers soared with crimson and golden plumage the new
Phoenix!

* * * * *

But the new Phoenix remembered still the life that belonged to him
when he was a maiden. The Phoenix, moreover, is a most wonderful bird.
It can change itself into many shapes. Every New Year's Day did this
Phoenix visit the Palace and present itself at the Festivity of the
Old Brown Coat, and every New Year's night, after the Sixteen Coat Tails
had robed and unrobed the lonely Prince with the greatest care, did the
Phoenix visit the Prince alone, and for one night he returned to the
old shape of the beautiful Isal. And when the Prince died he was changed
into a palm-tree, and the Phoenix dwelt in the branches.

[Illustration]

New Year's Day in the Garden.

Morning.

[Illustration]

It may not generally be known, yet so it is, that New Year's Day in the
Garden varies each year, but is established by one sure sign--the
blooming of the Lilac. When this takes place it is the custom of the
inhabitants of the Garden to celebrate their New Year's Day. In the year
when this happened which I am about to tell, the Lilac was later than
usual, and there was great impatience felt at its slowness. Some of the
younger ones, in fact, had serious doubts whether it would come to
flower at all, an