Orbasan's Favourite Fairy Tales
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Hans Christian Andersen
She pulled one out - scr-r-ratch! - how it spluttered and burned! It had a warm, bright flame like a tiny candle when she held her hand over it - but what a strange light!
But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, for he was very fond of the little Nightingale who had built her nest in his branches.
“Sing me one last song,” he whispered; “I shall feel very lonely when you are gone.”
So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her voice was like water bubbling from a silver jar.