THE Eagle promoted the Cuckoo to the rank of a Nightingale, and at
once, proud of its new position, the Cuckoo seated itself upon an aspen
and began to exercise its musical talents.
After a time it looked around. All the other birds were flying away,
some laughing and others abusing it. The Cuckoo grew angry, and
hastened to the Eagle with a complaint against the birds.
“Have pity on me!” it begged. “I have been appointed Nightingale to
these woods, and yet the birds dare laugh at my singing.”
“My friend,” answered the Eagle, “I am a king, but I am not a god. It
is impossible for me to remedy the cause of your complaint. I can order
a Cuckoo to be styled a Nightingale, but to make a Nightingale out of a
Cuckoo—that I cannot do.”
[Illustration]