HE royal family of the Kingdom of Percan had an old brown coat which they prized very highly; it was so old that no one could say exactly when it was made, but the story was that the Phoenix made it for the first King of Percan, so it must have been very old. Only the ruler of the kingdom was allowed to put it on, which he did once a year, on New Year's Day. Anybody else who wore it either would die or become king. Such an old coat would have to be mended occasionally, for though the King put it on very carefully on New Year's Day—sixteen men helping him on with it and taking two hours to do it in—and though he only wore it an hour and then put it away safely in a cedar chest for the rest of the year,—yet for all this care the coat, being so old and weak, frequently was torn. Whenever this sad event happened, the sixteen men who were called "Coat-Tails to His Majesty," (because they were appendages to the coat,) carried the coat to the oldest woman in the kingdom, who was obliged to mend it. If she were so old as to be helpless, the Sixteen Coat-Tails put her to death and then went to the woman next to her in age, who was of course the oldest then, until at last they found one who could mend it. Then they all kept guard over her to see that neither she nor any one else put it on, and when the coat was mended, they carried it back to the king's palace and put it away in the cedar chest. Once safely locked up, the Sixteen Coat-Tails sat on the chest by turns all the rest of the year. They were very trusty men indeed; it was a great honour to be one of the Coat-Tails.

Now, at the time when this story commences, the King of Percan was Shahtah the Great. He was called the Great, because he weighed so much and measured so far round the waist; since he had come to the throne, he had been growing greater and more powerful, until his fame spread through all the earth.

It was New Year's Day; and all the people came flocking to the palace to see the King put on the Old Brown Coat. At noon came a long procession led by the Sixteen Coat-Tails, headed by Kaddel the chief of the Sixteen; they carried the coat in a gold box. "See!" cried the people; "that is the box! the Old Brown Coat is inside! hurrah!" and as the procession passed, all the people shouted and tossed up their hats. And Kaddel was so splendidly dressed that he thought some of the crowd must be shouting for him. Then the palace was crowded as Kaddel at the head of the Coat-Tails brought the box before the King, who sat on the throne, and opened it in the presence of the royal family and the people, who however could not get near enough to see very much. The King who, as I said, was very fat, came slowly down the steps of the throne and laid aside his regal apparel, when the Sixteen Coat-Tails lifted the Old Brown Coat very carefully and began putting it upon the King; and very hard work it was. "I must reduce my size," said Shahtah; "next year I will drink a great deal of vinegar. I really am afraid I shall not be able to get the coat on without tearing it." Indeed the coat was already beginning to burst in several places, and Shahtah became quite heated with trying to make himself as small as possible. "If your Majesty would let out your breath," said Kaddel, "I think we might get it on." So Shahtah let out his breath as well as he could, at the same time shrinking in his skin, and the Sixteen Coat-Tails seized the opportunity to give a final push to the coat, so that it was at last fairly on, two hours and five minutes after it was taken out of the box. But Shahtah, the King, could not possibly do without breathing longer; he grew very red, and by the time the coat was fairly on was so exhausted, and so relieved at being through with the exertion, that he drew a long breath and sighed heavily, which expanded his portly frame until the coat burst in twenty rents. "How vexatious!" thought Kaddel, "and my grandmother who is blind, is the oldest woman! If now, the King were only as thin as I am," (for he was very thin,) "there would be no difficulty; or if I were only the king," he half added to himself.

When the coat was taken off, after the people had looked at it for an hour, and Shahtah the Great had been put to bed, for he was very much exhausted,—the Sixteen Coat-Tails immediately set out with the coat to get it mended. "Who is the oldest woman in the kingdom?" asked one of them. Kaddel kept the list and had to answer—"It is my grandmother." So they went to her house. But Kaddel's grandmother was ninety years old and blind, and besides had lost the use of her hands by paralysis. Of course she could not mend the coat, so there was nothing to be done but to put her to death and find the next in age. The law was very strict and could not be avoided. When they went away with the Old Brown Coat, Kaddel felt very bitter toward the fat old Shahtah. "If he had only been lean like me!" he groaned; "or if I were only king," he added to himself. This he said to himself so often that by the time they had found an old woman who could mend the coat, Kaddel had made up his mind to be king. "To be king," said he, "one must needs wear the Old Brown Coat; to be sure one may die; but the chance is even; and at any rate I am determined to kill Shahtah for making my grandmother die. The coat would just fit me."

The first night after the coat was finished and safely locked up in the cedar chest in the palace of the King of Percan, it was Kaddel's turn to sit upon the chest to guard it. In the middle of the night when all was quiet, he opened the chest and very carefully put on the Old Brown Coat; it was a perfect fit. "Now that I have put it on," said he, "I must either be king or die." Then he wont silently up to Shahtah's chamber where the guard let him in without suspicion, for Kaddel was a very trusty man and chief of the Sixteen Coat-Tails; there he killed the fat Shahtah and came out again. "Do not disturb the King," he said to the guard, "he will sleep late." Returning to the chest he took out the coat again and, doing it up in a bundle, went off with it on horseback long before morning, for he said to himself, "I will escape with the coat, then when the family of the King find he has been killed and the Old Brown Coat taken by me, they will be very angry and try to catch me and get the coat again, for no one can rule who does not wear the coat. But the people like me, and after a while I will come back and rule over them." So he rode night and day for a long while, and though the King's family sent messengers after him in every direction, they could not find him.

But Kaddel had forgotten that he who wears the coat may after all not be king but die. He was in the forest on the banks of a beautiful blue river. He was hiding in a cave very far away from any living person, but not far away from the wild beasts. One day he had taken the Old Brown Coat out of the bundle and laid it upon the limb of a tree, that he might look at it and fancy himself a king wearing it; but a tiger stole smoothly behind him and, before he was aware, the beast had killed Kaddel. The Coat lay still upon the bough and was protected by the leaves. But a great wind came and broke off the bough, sending it into the river that flowed below; the coat clung to the limb and floated with it for many days down the river.

Now the river ran for hundreds of miles through the forest without passing any house, but then it came to a woodman's hut where dwelt, entirely alone, the woodman and his little daughter Isal. One evening after the sun was down, Isal was playing on the river bank when she saw a limb of a tree floating down the river toward her; as it came near, the current of the stream brought it by the bank, and Isal, reaching out into the water, took hold of a twig and drew to her the very bough which had floated for hundred of miles down the river, with the Old Brown Coat snugly hid among the twigs and leaves. "Here is a coat!" said Isal. "I wonder where it could have come from!" She took it off the bough, which drifted away as she let it go, and held up the coat to look at it. "And what a strange looking coat it is!" she said. "It must be very old; it is very carefully mended too. Some poor person must have owned it; but it doesn't belong to anyone I know. I'll see if it fits me." Now Isal had never heard anything about the Old Brown Coat of the Kingdom of Percan, and of course knew nothing about the story that any one who wore it must rule or die. "It certainly fits me very well," said she, "but I don't think it is very warm; it is soft though, and I will sleep on it to night." She carried it into the house and showed it to her father, who turned it round and round but knew no more about it than she. When night came she laid the coat upon her hard bed so as to make it a little softer, for they were very poor, and soon went to sleep upon it.

Do you recollect that I told you at the beginning of this story that the Phoenix made the Old Brown Coat? Yes, the Phoenix made it, but not the one that was living then; for the Phoenix, you know, lives for five hundred years; there is only one Phoenix at a time, and when the old bird has lived his five hundred years, he builds a bonfire of sweet spices and lies down on it; when he is burned to ashes, out of the cinders rises up a new Phoenix with crimson and golden feathers who also lives five hundred years, and so on. It looks something like an eagle, though to be sure it is a great deal more magnificent than the eagle, and is a very wise bird. I do not know how old the present Phoenix is; persons differ about his age. Now it was a Phoenix—surely the great-great-great-grandfather of the one who was living in the reign of Shahtah, King of Percan, that made the Old Brown Coat; and the descendants of that bird, called generally Phoenix the Tailor, took a great interest in the coat and in all who wore it. The Phoenix who was living at the time of this story, was very much concerned about the stealing of the coat. He was a very old bird; he was four hundred and ninety-five years old when Shahtah was killed, and of course knew a great deal.

"Such a thing has not happened in my memory," said he, gravely, "but the times are growing very degenerate. When I was young there was a great deal more respect shown to the Old Brown Coat. That coat was made by the Tailor, my great-great-great grandfather. I can remember when the whole kingdom would have held their breath if there had happened a rent in the coat. But the times are sadly degenerate. I am sure I don't know what the world will come to after I die."

This he said to the Tufters. The Phoenix of course can have no children, so he generally adopts four birds of some other family and brings them up to wait on him. The four adopted children of the Phoenix were Tufters, that is a kind of goose, but differing from the goose in having a very fine scarlet tuft on the head which sets off the white body very finely; besides the Tufter is very wise. You sometimes hear persons say—as silly as a goose, but never as silly as a Tufter. Still the Tufters are geese after all, and are very fond of cackling. So, when the Phoenix had done speaking, the Tufters looked at one another and burst into a fit of cackling. The Phoenix was very much displeased at this. "How often have I told you," said he, "not to cackle in that way. It is very disrespectful in you. Besides this is no cackling matter." So the Tufters tried to look solemn, which made them look very much like geese. "I don't know exactly what it is best to do about this," proceeded the Phoenix, stroking his beak with one of his claws as he always did when he reflected; "but at any rate we must watch the coat." So the Tufters were sent off to keep watch over the coat, all except the youngest, who remained behind to take care of the aged bird. Her name was Rosedrop, because the tuft on her head was shaped and coloured like a rose.

After a while the Tufters came back very much excited. They forgot to make their obeisance to the Phoenix, when they came in, which irritated the venerable bird very much. "Where are your manners?" said he, sharply, as they were about to speak all at once. The Tufters recollected themselves, and standing in a row before the Phoenix, each upon one leg, they stretched out their long necks and bowed all together till their heads touched the ground, when they rubbed their brilliant tufts in the dirt. They always do this to show their humility. This pleased the Phoenix, and he told them they might speak now if they had anything to tell him, but one at a time. Whereupon, they all forgot their manners again, and cackled together in a most confusing manner, telling him that Kaddel had been killed, the coat had been carried down the river and captured by a woodman's little daughter, named Isal.

"I saw it myself," said the oldest, "and I saw Isal take it from the bough, on which it floated, and put it on."

"Yes," said the second, "and she has gone to sleep on it. She is very beautiful."

"But she will have to die or else rule, which is impossible, though; the law is very strict," said the next.

"Oh!" said the youngest, who had stayed with her father, "and must she die, because she put the coat on?" And Rosedrop looked very sad. She would have cried, but Tufters never cry. The Phoenix was evidently very much perplexed. He shook his head very hard while all the Tufters stood huddled around him.

"We must put this right," said he at last; but he did not say how; no doubt he knew, though, he looked so wise.

"Suppose we carry the coat back to the Prince; he will never know that Isal wore it," suggested the third of the Tufters who had spoken before.

"Little Tufters should be seen, not heard," said the Phoenix; "I did not ask your advice." At this the Tufter who had spoken so rashly looked very foolish, and the rest cackled over it. "You're a goose!" said they, all except Rosedrop, who came up and stroked her brother's tuft with her bill. "Isal must be brought here," at last said the Phoenix. "You must all four go and bring her here with the coat."

Away flew the Tufters—they fly very swiftly—and long before morning, though it was hundreds of miles away, they had come to the woodman's hut. The father and Isal were both asleep—Isal upon the Old Brown Coat. "What a sweet face!" whispered Rosedrop. Then each took a corner of the coat by the beak and lifting it up with Isal upon it, they flew out of the house and back again to the Phoenix. Isal was still asleep, but the morning light would soon wake her.

"Shall I give her a worm?" said the Tufter who had spoken so rashly before.

"Nonsense!" said the Phoenix sharply. "Little girls don't eat worms! Be more discreet. But you may go and find some berries." So he went off for them and Rosedrop with him. Isal was awake when they came back, and very much astonished at everything about her.

"How came I here?" said she, "with these strange looking birds about me. That is certainly a very odd looking bird, and very tame;" and she went up to the Phoenix to stroke it.

"Make your manners! make your manners! Stand on one foot! Put your head out! so!" screamed all the Tufters at once, as they stretched out their necks toward her and the Phoenix. But Isal could not tell that they said anything. "How these geese do cackle," said she, as she stroked the Phoenix, who did not dislike it, though he thought her rather forward, and bade Rosedrop bring her some berries. Rosedrop brought them to Isal, who thought she was the prettiest of all, and not at all like a goose.

"What shall we do with her now we have her here?" asked the rash Tufter; but he was sorry he asked, for the Phoenix gave him a terrible peck.

"I know my own affairs," said the old bird angrily, but really he knew very little about this affair and was sadly perplexed and quite at his wit's end. He said nothing of that though, but looked more than usually wise, and finally, when all were on tip-toe, or rather tip-claw, to hear what the wise bird would say, he spoke, and told the oldest to go to the palace of the King and bring back word of what was going on there.

"Ah!" said the second in age, "the Phoenix is a wonderful bird! what deep plans he has!"

Meanwhile Isal stayed by the Phoenix and the three Tufters, who kept very good watch over her. She looked about in vain for her father's house or for the great blue river; she could not understand how she came to be where she was and in such strange company; for, though the birds all told her everything about it a great many times over, she could not understand them, for she had never learned the Phoenician and the Tufter tongues. After roaming about all day and eating berries, shouting for her father and sometimes crying, she lay down upon the Old Brown Coat. The coat she knew; somehow or other she was pretty sure that it must have had something to do with her strange journey. She had heard her father tell about the wonderful cushion that Houssain rode upon; perhaps she had flown here upon the coat; she would lie down upon it and wish herself home again, and "who knows," said she, "but I shall wake up on my cot in the morning?"

After Isal had dropped asleep the Tufter who had been sent to the palace returned quite out of breath; he had such good news to tell; he hurried through his manners before the punctilious Phoenix, and then proceeded to relate how he had called on his friend, the Peacock, who lived in the palace garden. "I had a very good time, indeed," said he; "we had green peas to eat, and the Peacock showed me all his new feathers. I asked him about the theft of the coat and what the prince was going to do; but he did not know much about it; he said that for his part he thought people made a very ridiculous fuss about a seedy old coat. But just then we were joined by the Rabbit. The Peacock rather despised him; he whispered to me—so loud that I am sure the Rabbit must have heard—'Did you ever see such an absurd tail?' But I am sure the Rabbit is very beautiful and much more intelligent. The Peacock has such a disagreeable voice, and he is always trying to sing. I asked the Rabbit if he knew anything about the coat. He said he did; his friend the Mouse had told him the latest news that very morning; and the Mouse was very good authority, for he lived generally in the library and had gone through a great many books; he was very learned; he had overheard the Prince talking with the prime-minister, and he gathered that the Prince had sent out a proclamation, promising to give a very large sum to any one who would bring back the Old Brown Coat, and if it chanced to be a maiden he would marry her and make her queen; though of course that was quite absurd, the Rabbit said; but then the Rabbit jumps at conclusions. The Peacock tried to turn the conversation once or twice; he thought it was insufferably dull and finally went off in a dudgeon, and I saw him as I flew away, looking very grand, strutting along the garden walk. I bade the Rabbit good-by and left my regards for the Mouse though I am afraid it was rather improper—the Mouse is so learned. And here I am."

When the Tufter finished they all talked very eagerly about what was best to be done, while the Phoenix sat apart and deliberated by himself; of course the four children could know nothing about it.

Finally he called them to him and said—"Children, you may get yourselves ready to go with me to the Palace." This was, indeed, great news; the Phoenix had not, visited the palace for a hundred years. This was indeed a great event!

"May I go too?" asked Rosedrop.

"Yes," said the Phoenix, "you shall all go. You are to carry Isal with you on the coat. We shall go slowly. I am too old to travel very fast."

For a week they travelled. Every morning when Isal awoke she was surprised to find herself in a new place; always with the Old Brown Coat and the strange birds; they only travelled in the night time when Isal was asleep; in the day time they rested on account of the Phoenix. At last one morning, an hour before sunrise, they came to the Palace and alighted in the garden just below the Prince's window. They laid Isal on the Old Brown Coat upon the grass, and then the Phoenix bade the Tufters fly away a few miles into the woods and wait his coming. Rosedrop, however, he bade stay a while, when she tapped with her beak upon the window of the Prince's chamber, and then flew away to join her brothers.

The Prince heard the tapping upon the window, and said—"It is the messenger-bird," and rose to see if it had brought him a billet. He opened the window but no bird flew in, and he leaned upon the sill and looked up to the beautiful sky; the morning-star was just disappearing; he watched it till it was gone, and then cast his eyes on the green grass below. What should he see there but a lovely girl lying asleep on the grass, and a very magnificent bird standing beside her. He hastened down and stooped over the beautiful maiden. "How lovely!" said he; "she is more beautiful than the daughters of Calla. She is the morning-star which I just saw disappear in the heavens." He bent his face to hers and kissed her. With the kiss Isal awoke, and when she saw leaning over her so grand a looking person, she was more wonderstruck than ever before. "Surely he kissed me!" she murmured. Here the Phoenix broke in with a remark.

"O Prince," said he, "I am the Phoenix. For nearly five hundred years I have lived and guarded the Old Brown Coat. It was stolen, and I have brought it back to you with the maiden you are to marry. But you have taken no sort of notice of the coat. My great-great-great grandfather made that coat. It is more valuable than a hundred lovely girls."

When the Prince heard the Phoenix speak, he turned and saw the grand bird which he had overlooked. But he could not understand a word he said, though the Phoenix spoke very loud and as he thought very distinctly. "This is a very strange bird, indeed!" said the Prince. "Did the bird fly with you from the heavens, Morning-Star!"

Isal said, half to herself, "It is very strange. I cannot understand it at all. How did I come here! It is like a dream. And where are the other birds with tufts on their heads?" She got up as she said this; the Prince lifting her by the hand. Then the Prince saw the Old Brown Coat. "Ah! you have brought me my precious coat again!" said he, and he took it up joyfully. At this the Phoenix grew very much excited.

"He will tear it!" said he. "Where are the Sixteen Coat-Tails? This is alarming!"

But the Prince, without heeding him, took Isal by the hand and led her into the Palace, carrying, too, the Old Brown Coat. Then he made Isal tell him all that she knew about it. The royal household gathered about, mad with joy that the Old Brown Coat had been found again. The Sixteen Coat-Tails came in very solemnly and took possession of it. Each of the Sixteen in turn looked over it carefully, but could not find the least rent or tear. "How wonderful!" said they, "but we are very glad to get it again; we are so distinguished now." The bells of the city were rung and crowds of people came to rejoice over the recovery of the coat. Meanwhile the Phoenix walked about the garden.

"This is as it should be," said he, "as far as the Old Brown Coat is concerned, but I don't receive the honour due to me. I am the Phoenix; the only one of course in the world. I am five hundred years old, nearly. When I was here a hundred years ago I was made very much of. But the world is growing very degenerate." The gardener of the palace came by just then.

"What have we here?" said he. "Can it be that this is the Phoenix? I have heard my father describe the one that was here a century ago, and it certainly was very much like this fine bird." He went into the Palace and desired an audience with the Prince. "Does your majesty know," said he, "that the Phoenix is here?"

At this all the people set up a shout. "The Phoenix! It is the royal bird of Percan! Long live the Phoenix!"

The Prince and people passed into the garden and stood looking at the Phoenix. "Now I am respected;" said he. "This is as it should be." It was a great day for the Phoenix and a great day for the people. The Poet recited a long ode in his honour. The musicians played a great deal of music; the wise men, moreover, all got together and held a discussion for several hours about his age; but the people did not care much for this. The Phoenix was given a place above the throne. And not only that, but upon that very day the Prince of Percan, son of Shahtah the Great, the former king, was throned king and took for his queen the beautiful Isal, daughter of a woodman. He wore the Old Brown Coat, and it fitted him very well; it took the Sixteen Coat-Tails only an hour, with all their care, to get it upon him. When it was nightfall, the Phoenix came majestically down from his high perch, and hovering for a few minutes about the King and Queen, gave them a great deal of good advice which they could not understand, and then sailed grandly away, joined the Tufters in the woods, and flew back to his eyrie, far off. In the Palace lived the Prince and his beautiful Queen, the good Isal.