ONE would have thought that somethingimportant was going on in the duck-pond， but itwas nothing after all. All the ducks lying quietly onthe water or standing on their heads in it—for theycould do that—at once swarm to the sides; thetraces of their feet were seen in the wet earth， andtheir cackling was heard far and wide. The water，which a few moments before had been as clear andsmooth as a mirror， became very troubled. Before， every tree， every neighbouring bush，the old farmhouse with the holes in the roof and the swallows' nest， and especially the GREatrose-bush full of flowers， had been reflected in it. The rose-bush covered the wall and hungout over the water， in which everything was seen as if in a picture， except that it all stood onits head; but when the water was troubled everything got mixed up， and the picture wasgone. Two feathers which the fluttering ducks had lost floated up and down; suddenly theytook a rush as if the wind were coming， but as it did not come they had to lie still， and thewater once more became quiet and smooth. The roses were again reflected; they were verybeautiful， but they did not know it， for no one had told them. The sun shone among thedelicate leaves; everything breathed forth the loveliest fragrance， and all felt as we do whenwe are filled with joy at the thought of our happiness.
“How beautiful existence is!” said each rose. “the only thing that I wish for is to be able tokiss the sun， because it is so warm and bright. I should also like to kiss those roses down inthe water， which are so much like us， and the pretty little birds down in the nest. There aresome up above too; they put out their heads and pipe softly; they have no feathers like theirfather and mother. We have good neighbours， both below and above. How beautiful existenceis!”
the young ones above and below—those below were really only shadows in the water—weresparrows; their parents were sparrows too， and had taken possession of the emptyswallows' nest of last year， and now lived in it as if it were their own property.
“Are those the duck's children swimming here?” asked the young sparrows when they sawthe feathers on the water.
“If you must ask questions， ask sensible ones，” said their mother. “Don't you see thatthey are feathers， such as I wear and you will wear too? But ours are finer. Still， I should liketo have them up in the nest， for they keep one warm. I am very curious to know what theducks were so startled about; not about us， certainly， although I did say 'peep' to youpretty loudly. The thick-headed roses ought to know why， but they know nothing at all; theyonly look at themselves and smell. I am heartily tired of such neighbours.”
“Listen to the dear little birds up there，” said the roses; “they begin to want to sing too，but are not able to manage it yet. But it will soon come. What a pleasure that must be! It isfine to have such cheerful neighbours.”
Suddenly two horses came galloping up to be watered. A peasant boy rode on one， and hehad taken off all his clothes except his large broad black hat. The boy whistled like a bird， androde into the pond where it was deepest， and as he passed the rose-bush he plucked a roseand stuck it in his hat. Now he looked dressed， and rode on. The other roses looked after theirsister， and asked each other， “Where can she be going to?” But none of them knew.
“I should like to go out into the world for once，” said one; “but here at home among ourGREen leaves it is beautiful too. The whole day long the sun shines bright and warm， and inthe night the sky shines more beautifully still; we can see that through all the little holes in it.”
they meant the stars， but they knew no better.
“We make it lively about the house，” said the sparrow-mother; “and people say that aswallows' nest brings luck; so they are glad of us. But such neighbours as ours! A rose-bushon the wall like that causes damp. I daresay it will be taken away; then we shall， perhaps，have some corn growing here. The roses are good for nothing but to be looked at and to besmelt， or at most to be stuck in a hat. Every year， as I have been told by my mother， theyfall off. The farmer's wife preserves them and strews salt among them; then they get a Frenchname which I neither can pronounce nor care to， and are put into the fire to make a nice smell.You see， that's their life; they exist only for the eye and the nose. Now you know.”
In the evening， when the gnats were playing about in the warm air and in the red clouds，the nightingale came and sang to the roses that the beautiful was like sunshine to the world，and that the beautiful lived for ever. The roses thought that the nightingale was singing aboutitself， and that one might easily have believed; they had no idea that the song was aboutthem. But they were very pleased with it， and wondered whether all the little sparrows couldbecome nightingales.
“I understand the song of that bird very well，” said the young sparrows. “There was onlyone word that was not clear to me. What does 'the beautiful' mean?”
“Nothing at all，” answered their mother; “that's only something external. Up at the Hall，where the pigeons have their own house， and corn and peas are strewn before them everyday—I have dined with them myself， and that you shall do in time， too; for tell me whatcompany you keep and I'll tell you who you are—up at the Hall they have two birds with GREennecks and a crest upon their heads; they can spread out their tails like a great wheel， andthese are so bright with various colours that it makes one's eyes ache. These birds are calledpeacocks， and that is 'the beautiful.' If they were only plucked a little they would look no betterthan the rest of us. I would have plucked them already if they had not been so big.”
“I'll pluck them，” piped the young sparrow，who had no feathers yet.
In the farmhouse lived a young married couple;they loved each other dearly， were industrious andactive， and everything in their home looked verynice. On Sundays the young wife came down early，plucked a handful of the most beautiful roses， andput them into a glass of water， which she placedupon the cupboard.