Now, honorable dames and gentlemen, do not judge this story of mine too severely.  If you like it, praise it; if not, let it be forgotten.  The story is told and a word is like a sparrow—­once out it is out for good.

[Illustration]

THE LANGUAGE OF THE BIRDS

[Illustration] Somewhere in a town in holy Russia, there lived a rich merchant with his wife.  He had an only son, a dear, bright, and brave boy called Ivan.  One lovely day Ivan sat at the dinner table with his parents.  Near the window in the same room hung a cage, and a nightingale, a sweet-voiced, gray bird, was imprisoned within.  The sweet nightingale began to sing its wonderful song with trills and high silvery tones.  The merchant listened and listened to the song and said: 

“How I wish I could understand the meaning of the different songs of all the birds!  I would give half my wealth to the man, if only there were such a man, who could make plain to me all the different songs of the different birds.”

Ivan took notice of these words and no matter where he went, no matter where he was, no matter what he did, he always thought of how he could learn the language of the birds.

[Illustration:  Ivan learns the language of the birds]

Some time after this the merchant’s son happened to be hunting in a forest.  The winds rose, the sky became clouded, the lightning flashed, the thunder roared loudly, and the rain fell in torrents.  Ivan soon came near a large tree and saw a big nest in the branches.  Four small birds were in the nest; they were quite alone, and neither father nor mother was there to protect them from the cold and wet.  The good Ivan pitied them, climbed the tree and covered the little ones with his “kaftan,” a long-skirted coat which the Russian peasants and merchants usually wear.  The thunderstorm passed by and a big bird came flying and sat down on a branch near the nest and spoke very kindly to Ivan.

“Ivan, I thank thee; thou hast protected my little children from the cold and rain and I wish to do something for thee.  Tell me what thou dost wish.”

Ivan answered; “I am not in need; I have everything for my comfort.  But teach me the birds’ language.”

“Stay with me three days and thou shalt know all about it.”

Ivan remained in the forest three days.  He understood well the teaching of the big bird and returned home more clever than before.  One beautiful day soon after this Ivan sat with his parents when the nightingale was singing in his cage.  His song was so sad, however, so very sad, that the merchant and his wife also became sad, and their son, their good Ivan, who listened very attentively, was even more affected, and the tears came running down his cheeks.

“What is the matter?” asked his parents; “what art thou weeping about, dear son?”

“Dear parents,” answered the son, “it is because I understand the meaning of the nightingale’s song, and because this meaning is so sad for all of us.”