“I’m bringing a light which nobody knows of! …”
And, so saying, the last Child lit himself up entirely with a most extraordinary flame.
Amid these joyous exclamations, the Live Children were dragged towards the blue workshops, where each of the little inventors set his machine going. It was a great blue whirl of disks and pulleys and straps and flywheels and driving-wheels and cogwheels and all kinds of wheels, which sent every sort of machine skimming over the ground or shooting up to the ceiling. Other Blue Children unfolded maps and plans, or opened great big books, or uncovered azure statues, or brought enormous flowers and gigantic fruits that seemed made of sapphires and turquoises.
Our little friends stood with their mouths wide open and their hands clasped together: they thought themselves in paradise. Mytyl bent over to look at a huge flower and laughed into its cup, which covered up her head like a hood of blue silk. A pretty Child, with dark hair and thoughtful eyes, held it by the stalk and said, proudly:
“The flowers will all grow like that, when I am on earth!”
“When will that be?” asked Tyltyl.
“In fifty-three years, four months and nine days.”
Next came two Blue Children bending under the weight of a pole from which was slung a bunch of grapes each larger than a pear.
“A bunch of pears!” cried Tyltyl.
“No, they are grapes,” said the Child. “They will all be like that when I am thirty: I have found the way. …”
Tyltyl would have loved to taste them, but another Child came along almost hidden under a basket which one of the tall persons was helping him to carry. His fair-haired, rosy face smiled through the leaves that hung over the wickerwork.
“Look!” he said. “Look at my apples. …”
“But those are melons!” said Tyltyl.
“No, no!” said the Child. “They are my apples! They will all be alike when I am alive! I have discovered the process! …”
I should never finish if I were to try and describe to my little readers all the wonderful and incredible things that appeared before our hero’s eyes. But, suddenly, a loud burst of laughter rang through the hall. A Child had spoken of the King of the Nine Planets; and Tyltyl, very much puzzled and perplexed, looked on every side. All the faces, bright with laughter, were turned to some spot which Tyltyl could not see; every finger pointed in the same direction; but our friend looked in vain. They had spoken of a king! He was looking for a throne with a tall, dignified personage on it, wielding a golden sceptre.
“Over there … over there … lower down … behind you!” said a thousand little voices together.
“But where is the King?” Tyltyl and Mytyl repeated, greatly interested.
Then, suddenly, a louder and more serious voice sounded above the silvery murmur of the others:
“Here I am!” it said proudly.
And, at the same time, Tyltyl discovered a chubby baby which he had not yet remarked, for it was the smallest and had kept out of the way till then, sitting at the foot of a column in an attitude of indifference, seemingly rapt in contemplation. The little King was the only one who had taken no notice of the “Live Children.” His beautiful, liquid eyes, eyes as blue as the palace, were pursuing endless dreams; his right hand supported his head, which was already heavy with thought; his short tunic showed his dimpled knees; and a golden crown rested on his yellow locks. When he cried, “Here I am!” the baby rose from the step on which he was sitting and tried to climb on to it at one stride; but he was still so awkward that he lost his balance and fell upon his nose. He at once picked himself up with so much dignity that nobody dared make fun of him; and, this time, he scrambled up on all fours and then, putting his legs wide apart, stood and eyed Tyltyl from top to toe.
“You’re not very big!” said Tyltyl, doing his best to keep from laughing.
“I shall do great things when I am!” retorted the King, in a tone that admitted of no reply.
“And what will you do?” asked Tyltyl.
“I shall found the General Confederation of the Solar Planets,” said the King, in a very pompous voice.
Our friend was so much impressed that he could not find a word to say; and the King continued:
“All the Planets will belong to it, except Uranus, Saturn and Neptune, which are too ridiculously far away.”
Thereupon, he toddled off the step again and resumed his first attitude, showing that he had said all that he meant to say.
Tyltyl left him to his meditations; he was eager to know as many more of the Children as he could. He was introduced to the discoverer of a new sun, to the inventor of a new joy, to the hero who was to wipe out injustice from the earth and to the wiseacre who was to conquer Death. … There were such lots and lots of them that it would take days and days to name them all. Our friend was rather tired and was beginning to feel bored, when his attention was suddenly aroused by hearing a Child’s voice calling him:
“Tyltyl! … Tyltyl! … How are you, Tyltyl, how are you? …”
A little Blue Child came running up from the back of the hall, pushing his way through the crowd. He was fair and slim and bright-eyed and had a great look of Mytyl.
“How do you know my name?” asked Tyltyl.
“It’s not surprising,” said the Blue Child, “considering that I shall be your brother!”
This time, the Live Children were absolutely amazed. What an extraordinary meeting! They must certainly tell Mummy as soon as they got back! How astonished they would be at home!
While they were making these reflections, the Child went on to explain:
“I am coming to you next year, on Palm Sunday,” he said.
And he put a thousand questions to his big brother: was it comfortable at home? Was the food good? Was
