“What can I do? It’s a fancy she has. …”
The others looked at one another in silence: they knew what the neighbor’s words meant. Her little girl had long been saying that she would get well if Tyltyl would only give her his dove; but he was so fond of it that he refused to part with it. …
“Well,” said Mummy Tyl to her son, “won’t you give your bird to that poor little thing? She has been dying to have it for ever so long! …”
“My bird!” cried Tyltyl, slapping his forehead as though they had spoken of something quite out of the way. “My bird!” he repeated. “That’s true, I was forgetting about him! … And the cage! … Mytyl, do you see the cage? … It’s the one which Bread carried. … Yes, yes, it’s the same one, there it is, there it is!”
Tyltyl would not believe his eyes. He took a chair, put it under the cage and climbed on to it gaily, saying:
“Of course, I’ll give him to her, of course, I will! …”
Then he stopped, in amazement:
“Why, he’s blue!” he said. “It’s my dove, just the same, but he has turned blue while I was away!”
And our hero jumped down from the chair and began to skip for joy, crying:
“It’s the Blue Bird we were looking for! We have been miles and miles and miles and he was here all the time! … He was here, at home! … Oh, but how wonderful! … Mytyl, do you see the bird? What would Light say? … There, Madame Berlingot, take him quickly to your little girl. …”
While he was talking, Mummy Tyl threw herself into her husband’s arms and moaned:
“You see? … You see? … He’s taken bad again. … He’s wandering. …”
Meantime, Neighbor Berlingot beamed all over her face, clasped her hands together and mumbled her thanks. When Tyltyl gave her the bird, she could hardly believe her eyes. She hugged the boy in her arms and wept with joy and gratitude:
“Do you give it me?” she kept saying. “Do you give it me like that, straight away and for nothing? … Goodness, how happy she will be! … I fly, I fly! … I will come back to tell you what she says. …”
“Yes, yes, go quickly,” said Tyltyl, “for some of them change their color!”
Neighbour Berlingot ran out and Tyltyl shut the door after her. Then he turned round on the threshold, looked at the walls of the cottage, looked all around him and seemed wonderstruck:
“Daddy, Mummy, what have you done to the house?” he asked. “It’s just as it was, but it’s much prettier.”
His parents looked at each other in bewilderment; and the little boy went on:
“Why, yes, everything has been painted and made to look like new; everything is clean and polished. … And look at the forest outside the window! … How big and fine it is! … One would think it was quite new! … How happy I feel here, oh, how happy I feel!”
The worthy woodcutter and his wife could not make out what was coming over their son; but you, my dear little readers, who have followed Tyltyl and Mytyl through their beautiful dream, will have guessed what it was that altered everything in our young hero’s view.
It was not for nothing that the Fairy, in his dream, had given him a talisman to open his eyes. He had learned to see the beauty of things around him; he had passed through trials that had developed his courage; while pursuing the Blue Bird, the Bird of Happiness that was to bring happiness to the Fairy’s little girl, he had become openhanded and so good-natured that the mere thought of giving pleasure to others filled his heart with joy. And, while travelling through endless, wonderful, imaginary regions, his mind had opened out to life.
The boy was right, when he thought everything more beautiful, for, to his richer and purer understanding, everything must needs seem infinitely fairer than before.
Meanwhile, Tyltyl continued his joyful inspection of the cottage. He leaned over the bread-pan to speak a kind word to the Loaves; he rushed at Tylô, who was sleeping in his basket, and congratulated him on the good fight which he had made in the forest.
Mytyl stooped down to stroke Tylette, who was snoozing by the stove, and said:
“Well, Tylette? … You know me, I see, but you have stopped talking.”
Then Tyltyl put his hand up to his forehead:
“Hullo!” he cried. “The diamond’s gone! … Who’s taken my little green hat? … Never mind, I don’t want it any more! … Ah, there’s Fire! Good morning, sir! He’ll be crackling to make Water angry!” He ran to the tap, turned it on and bent down over the water. “Good morning, Water, good morning! … What does she say? … She still talks, but I don’t understand her as well as I did. … Oh, how happy I am, how happy I am! …”
“So am I, so am I!” cried Mytyl.
And our two young friends took each other’s hands and began to scamper round the kitchen.
Mummy Tyl felt a little relieved at seeing them so full of life and spirits. Besides, Daddy Tyl was so calm and placid. He sat eating his porridge and laughing:
“You see, they are playing at being happy!” he said.
Of course, the poor dear man did not know that a wonderful dream had taught his little children not to play at being happy, but to be happy, which is the greatest and most difficult of lessons.
“I like Light best of all,” said Tyltyl to Mytyl, standing on tiptoe by the window. “You can see her over there, through the trees of the forest. Tonight, she will be in the lamp. Dear, oh, dear, how lovely it all is and how glad I feel, how glad I. …”
He stopped and listened. Everybody lent an ear. They heard laughter and merry voices; and the sounds came nearer.
“It’s her voice!” cried Tyltyl. “Let me open the door!”
As a matter of fact, it was the little girl, with her mother, Neighbor Berlingot.
“Look at her,” said Goody Berlingot, quite overcome with joy. “She can run,
