Once the Birds of Paradise were really Birds of Paradise, for they lived there and were ever so much more beautiful than they are now, though perhaps, if you were to see them flying about in their native forests, you would hardly believe that possible. That is because you cannot imagine _how_ beautiful _real_ Birds of Paradise are, for these Birds of Paradise were not more beautiful than the other ones that lived there. All were as beautiful as each other though in different ways, and it was just that which made these Birds of Paradise discontented. "If we go down to earth," said they, "the birds of all the world will do homage to us on account of our superior beauty, for there will be none to equal us. So we shall reign over them and be their King. Here we are only like all the others. None of them fly to the tree on which we are sitting to do us homage." "Do not be foolish," said the tree (for in Paradise trees and all can speak). "The homage which you desire you would soon weary of, and the beauty which you enjoy here would, on earth, be only a pain to you, for it would remind you of the Paradise you had left but could never enter again. For those who once leave Paradise can never more return to it. Therefore be wise and stay, for if you go you will repent, but then it will be too late." And all the birds around said, "Stay," and then they raised their voices, which were lovelier than you can imagine, in a song of joy--of joy that they were in Paradise and not on earth. And the Birds of Paradise sang too, their voices were as sweet as any, but they had envy and discontent in their hearts. "Our singing cannot be surpassed, it is true," thought they, "but it is equalled by that of every other bird. We sing in a chorus merely. It would not be so on earth. We should be 'prima donnas' there." (Your mother will tell you what a prima donna is as well as what doing homage means.)