THE BRONZE RINGONCE upon a time in a certain country there lived a king whose palace was encircled by a spacious garden. But, although the gardeners were galore and the soil was good, this garden yielded neither flowers nor fruits, not even as grass or shady trees.
The King was in despair just about it, once a wise old man aforesaid to him:
"Your gardeners do not understand their business: but what can you expect of men whose fathers were cobblers and carpenters? How should they have knowing to cultivate your garden?"
"You are quite right," cried the King.
"Therefore," continuing the old man, "you should send for a gardener whose father and gramps have been gardeners before him, and really shortly your garden wish be full of green grass and gay flowers, and