"Oh, this must be the Nightingale! How wonderful that such a little bird has such a tremendous voice!" said they.
"That is not a bird singing, that is a cow mooing," said the little kitchen maid. "We have a long way to go yet."
A little farther on they heard some frogs croaking in the marsh. The Chinese Chaplain was with them and he said, "How sublime! That is just like the ringing of a church bell."
"Why," said the little kitchen maid, "those are frogs croaking, but very soon we shall hear her."
Just then the Nightingale began to sing.
"Hark!" cried the little girl. "Listen!" and pointing to a little bird sitting up in the branches, said, "There she is."
"It doesn't seem possible that so very common looking a bird as that can sing," said the First Lord. "It must be that she has lost her brilliant plumage because there are so many distinguished people here."
Then the little kitchen maid called out, "Little Nightingale, our gracious Emperor invites you to sing before him this evening!"
