第33章

"Ah, here comes an explorer," he exclaimed when he caught sight of the little prince, who was feeling a little winded and sat down on the desk. He had already traveled so much and so far!

"Where do you come from?" the old gentleman asked him.

"What's that big book?" asked the little prince. "What do you do with it?"

"I'm a geographer," the old gentleman answered.

"And what's a geographer?"

"A scholar who knows where the seas are, and the rivers, the cities, the mountains, and the deserts."

"That is very interesting," the little prince sa. "Here at last is someone who has a real profession!" And he gazed around him at the geographer's planet. He had never seen a planet so majestic. "Your planet is very beautiful," he sa. "Does it have any oceans?"

"I couldn't say," sa the geographer.

"Oh!" The little prince was disappointed. "And mountains?"

"I couldn't say," sa the geographer.

"And cities and rivers and deserts?"

"I couldn't tell you that, either," the geographer sa.

"But you're a geographer!"

"That's right," sa the geographer, "but I'm not an explorer. There's not one explorer on my planet. A geographer doesn't go out to describe cities, rivers, mountains, seas, oceans, and deserts. A geographer is too important to go wandering about. He never leaves his study. But he receives the explorers there. He questions them, and he writes down what they remember. And if the memories of one of the explorers seem interesting to him, then the geographer conducts an inquiry into that explorer's moral character. "

"Why is that?"

"Because an explorer who told lies would cause disasters in the geography books. As would an explorer who drank too much."

"Why is that?" the little prince asked again.

"Because drunkards see double. And the geographer would write down two mountains where there was only one."

"I know someone," sa the little prince, "who would be a bad explorer."

"Possibly. Well, when the explorer's moral character seems to be a good one, an investigation is made into his discovery."

"By going to see it?"

"No, that would be too complicated. But the explorer is required to furnish proofs. For instance, if he claims to have discovered a large mountain, he is required to bring back largest ones from it." The geographer suddenly grew excited. "But you come from far away! You're an explorer! You must describe your planet for me!"

And the geographer, having opened his logbook, sharpened his pencil. Explorers' reports are first recorded in pencil; ink is used only after proofs have been furnished.

"Well?" sa the geographer expectantly.

"Oh, where I live," sa the little prince, "is not very interesting. It's so small. I have three volcanoes, two active and one extinct. But you never know."

"You never know," sa the geographer.

"I also have a flower."

"We don't record flowers," the geographer sa.

"Why not? It's the prettiest thing!"

"Because flowers are ephemeral."

"What does ephemeral mean?"

"Geographies," sa the geographer, "are the finest books of all. They never go out of fashion. It is extremely rare for a mountain to change position. It is extremely rare for an ocean to be drained of its water. We write eternal things."

"But extinct volcanoes can come back to life," the little prince interrupted. "What does ephemeral mean?"

"Whether volcanoes are extinct or active comes down to the same thing for us," sa the geographer. "For us what counts is the mountain. That doesn't change."

"But what does ephemeral mean?" repeated the little prince, who had never in all his life let go of a question once he had asked it.

"It means, which is threatened by imminent disappearance."

"Is my flower threatened by imminent disappearance?"

"Of course."

My flower is ephemeral, the little prince sa to himself, and she has only four thorns with which to defend herself against the world! And I've left her all alone where I live!

That was his first impulse of regret. But he plucked up his courage again. "Where would you advise me to visit?" he asked.

"The planet Earth," the geographer answered. "It has a good reputation."

And the little prince went on his way, thinking about his flower.

Chapter XVI

The seventh planet, then, was the Earth.

The Earth is not just another planet! It contains one hundred and eleven kings （including, of course, the African kings）, seven thousand geographers, nine-hundred thousand businessmen, seven-and-a-half million drunkards, three-hundred-eleven million vain men; in other words, about two billion grown-ups.

To give you a notion of the Earth's dimensions, I can tell you that before the invention of electricity, it was necessary to maintain, over the whole of six continents, a veritable army of four-hundred-sixty-two thousand, five hundred and eleven lamplighters.

Seen from some distance, this made a splend effect. The movements of this army were ordered like those of a ballet. First came the turn of the lamplighters of New Zealand and Australia; then these, having lit their street lamps, would go home to sleep. Next it would be the turn of the lamplighters of China and Siberia to perform their steps in the lamplighters' ballet, and then they too would vanish into the wings. Then came the turn of the lamplighters of Russia and India. Then those of Africa and Europe. Then those of South America, and of North America. And they never missed their cues for their appearances on stage. It was awe-inspiring.

Only the lamplighter of the single street lamp at the North Pole and his colleague of the single street lamp at the South Pole carefree, le lives: They worked twice a year.

Chapter XVII

Trying to be witty leads to lying, more or less. What I just told you about the lamplighters isn't completely true, and I risk giving a false ea of our planet to those who don't know it. Men occupy very little space on Earth. If the two billion inhabitants of the globe were to stand close together, as they might for some big public event, they would easily fit into a city block that was twenty miles long and twenty miles we. You could crowd all humanity onto the smallest Pacific islet.

Grown-ups, of course, won't believe you. They're convinced they take up much more room. They conser themselves as important as the baobabs. So you should advise them to make their own calculations-they love numbers, and they'll enjoy it. But don't waste your time on this extra task. It's unnecessary. Trust me.

So once he reached Earth, the little prince was quite surprised not to see anyone. He was beginning to fear he had come to the wrong planet, when a moon-colored loop uncoiled on the sand.

"Good evening," the little prince sa, just in case.

"Good evening," sa the snake.

"What planet have I landed on?" asked the little prince.

"On the planet Earth, in Africa," the snake replied.

"Ah! ... And are there no people on Earth?"

"It's the desert here. There are no people in the desert. Earth is very big," sa the snake.

The little prince sat down on a rock and looked up into the sky.

"I wonder," he sa, "if the stars are lit up so that each of us can find his own, someday. Look at my planet-it's just overhead. But so far away!"

"It's lovely," the snake sa. "What have you come to Earth for?"

"I'm having difficulties with a flower," the little prince sa.

"Ah!" sa the snake.

And they were both silent.

"Where are the people?" The little prince finally resumed the conversation. "It's a little lonely in the desert."

"It's also lonely with people," sa the snake.

The little prince looked at the snake for a long time. "You're a funny creature," he sa at last, "no thicker than a finger."

"But I'm more powerful than a king's finger," the snake sa.

The little prince smiled.

"You're not very powerful ... You don't even have feet. You couldn't travel very far."

"I can take you further than a ship," the snake sa. He coiled around the little prince's ankle, like a golden bracelet. "Anyone I touch, I send back to the land from which he came," the snake went on. "But you're innocent, and you come from a star ..."

The little prince made no reply.

"I feel sorry for you, being so weak on this granite earth," sa the snake. "I can help you, someday, if you grow too homesick for your planet. I can ..."

"Oh, I understand just what you mean," sa the little prince, "but why do you always speak in rdles?"

"I solve them all," sa the snake.

And they were both silent.

Chapter XVIII

The little prince crossed the desert and encountered only one flower. A flower with three petals-a flower of no consequence ...

"Good morning," sa the little prince.

"Good morning," sa the flower.

"Where are the people?" the little prince inquired politely.

The flower had one day seen a caravan passing.

"People? There are six or seven of them, I believe, in existence. I caught sight of them years ago. But you never know where to find them. The wind blows them away. They have no roots, which hampers them a good deal."

"Good-bye," sa the little prince.

"Good-bye," sa the flower.

Chapter XIX

The little prince climbed a high mountain. The only mountains he had ever known were the three volcanoes, which came up to his knee. And he used the extinct volcano as a footstool. From a mountain as high as this one, he sa to himself, I'll get a view of the whole planet and all the people on it ... But he saw nothing but rocky peaks as sharp as needles.

"Hello," he sa, just in case.

"Hello ... hello ... hello ...,"the echo answered.

"Who are you?" asked the little prince.

"Who are you ... who are you ... who are you ..." the echo answered.

"Let's be friends. I'm lonely," he sa. "I'm lonely ... I'm lonely ... I'm lonely ..." the echo answered.

What a peculiar planet! He thought. It's all dry and sharp and hard. And people here have no imagination. They repeat whatever you say to them. Where I live I had a flower: She always spoke first...

Chapter XX

But it so happened that the little prince, having walked along time through sand and rocks and snow, finally discovered a road. And all roads go to where there are people.

"Good morning," he sa.

It was a blossoming rose garden.

"Good morning," sa the roses.

The little prince gazed at them. Al1 of them looked like his flower.

"Who are you?" he asked, astounded.

"We're roses," the roses sa.

"Ah!" sa the little prince.

And he felt very unhappy. His flower had told him she was the only one of her kind in the whole universe. And here were five thousand of them, all just alike, in just one garden!

She would be very annoyed, he sa to himself, if she saw this ... She would cough terrible and pretend to be dying, to avo being laughed at. And I'd have to pretend to be nursing her; otherwise, she'd really herself die in order to humiliate me.

And then he sa to himself, I thought I was rich because I had just one flower, and all I own is an ordinary rose. That and my three volcanoes, which come up to my knee, one of which may be permanently extinct. It doesn't make me much of a prince ... And he lay down in the grass and wept.

Chapter XXI

It was then that the fox appeared.

"Good morning," sa the fox.

"Good morning," the little prince answered politely, though when he turned around he saw nothing.

"I'm here," the voice sa, "under the apple tree."

"Who are you?" the little prince asked. "You're very pretty ..."

"I'm a fox," the fox sa.

"Come and play with me," the little prince proposed. "I'm feeling so sad."

"I can't play with you," the fox sa. "I'm not tamed."

"Ah! Excuse me," sa the little prince. But upon reflection headed, "what does tamed mean?"

"You're not from around here," the fox sa. "What are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for people," sa the little prince. "What does tamed mean?"

"People," sa the fox, "have guns and they hunt. It's quite troublesome. And they also raise chickens. That's the only interesting thing about them. Are you looking for chickens?"

"No," sa the little prince, "I'm looking for friends. What does tamed mean?"

"It's something that's been too often neglected. It means, 'to create ties' ..."

"'To create ties'?"

"That's right," the fox sa. "For me you're only a little boy just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you have no need of me, either. For you I'm only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, we'll need each other. You'll be the only boy in the world for me. I'll be the only fox in the world for you ..."

"I'm beginning to understand," the little prince sa. "There's a flower ... I think she's tamed me ..."

"Possibly," the fox sa. "On Earth, one sees all kinds of things."

"Oh, this isn't on Earth," the little prince sa.

The fox seemed quite intrigued. "On another planet?

"Yes."

"Are there hunters on that planet?"

"No."

"Now that's interesting. And chickens?"

"No. "

"Nothing's perfect," sighed the fox. But here turned to his ea. "My life is monotonous. I hunt chickens; people hunt me. All chickens are just alike, and all men are just alike. So I'm rather bored. But if you tame me, my life will be filled with sunshine. I'll know the sound of footsteps that will be different from all the rest. Other footsteps send me back underground. Yours will call me out of my burrow like music. And then, look! You see the wheat fields over there? I don't eat bread. For me wheat is of no use whatever. Wheat fields say nothing to me. Which is sad? But you have hair the color of gold. So it will be wonderful, once you've tamed me! The wheat, which is golden, will remind me of you. And I'll love the sound of the wind in the wheat ..."

The fox fell silent and stared at the little prince for a long while. "Please ... tame me!" he sa.

"I'd like to," the little prince replied, "but I haven't much time. I have friends to find and so many things to learn."

"The only things you learn are the things you tame," sa the fox. "People haven't time to learn anything. They buy things ready-made in stores. But since there are no stores where you can buy friends, people no longer have friends. If you want a friend, tame me!"

"What do I have to do?" asked the little prince.

"You have to be very patient," the fox answered. "First you'll sit down a little ways away from me, over there, in the grass. I'll watch you out of the corner of my eye, and you won't say anything. Language is the source of misunderstandings. But day by day, you'll be able to sit a little closer ..."

The next day the little prince returned.

"It would have been better to return at the same time," the fox sa. "For instance, if you come at four in the afternoon, I'll begin to be happy by three. The closer it gets to four, the happier I'll feel. By four I'll be all excited and worried; I'll discover what it costs to be happy! But if you come at any old time, I'll never know when I should prepare my heart ... There must be rites."

"What's a rite?" asked the little prince.

"That's another thing that's been too often neglected," sa the fox. "It's the fact that one day is different from the other days, one hour from the other hours. My hunters, for example, have a rite. They dance with the village girls on Thursdays. So Thursday's a wonderful day: I can take a stroll all the way to the vineyards. If the hunters danced whenever they chose, the days would all be just alike, and I'd have no holay at all."

That was how the little prince tamed the fox. And when the time to leave was near:

"Ah!" the fox sa. "I shall weep."

"It's your own fault," the little prince sa. "I never wanted to do you any harm, but you insisted that I tame you ..."

"Yes, of course," the fox sa.

"But you're going to weep!" sa the little prince.

"Yes, of course," the fox sa.

"Then you get nothing out of it."

"I get something," the fox sa, "because of the color of the wheat." Then he added, "go look at the roses again. You'll understand that yours is the only rose in all the world. Then come back to say good-bye, and I'll make you the gift of a secret."

The little prince went to look at the roses again.

"You're not at all like my rose. You're nothing at all yet," he told them. "No one has tamed you and you haven't tamed anyone. You're the way my fox was. He was just a fox like a hundred thousand others. But I've made him my friend, and now he's the only fox in all the world."

And the roses were humbled.

"You're lovely, but you're empty," he went on. "One couldn't die for you. Of course, an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass. Since she's the one I sheltered behind a screen. Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars （except the two or three for butterflies）. Since she's the one I listened to. When she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she sa nothing at all. Since she's my rose."

And he went back to the fox.

"Good-bye," he sa.

"Good-bye," sa the fox. "Here is my secret. It's quite simple: One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes."

"Anything essential is invisible to the eyes," the little prince repeated, in order to remember.

"It's the time you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important."

"It's the time I spent on my rose ..." the little prince repeated, in order to remember.

"People have forgotten this truth," the fox sa. "But you mustn't forget it. You become responsible forever for what you've tamed. You're responsible for your rose ..."

"I'm responsible for my rose ..." the little prince repeated, in order to remember.

Chapter XXII

"Good morning," sa the little prince.

"Good morning," sa the railway switchman.

"What is it that you do here?" asked the little prince.

"I sort the travelers into bundles of a thousand," the switchman sa. "I dispatch the trains that carry them, sometimes to the right, sometimes to the left."

And a brightly lit express train, roaring like thunder, shook the switchman's cabin.

"What a hurry they're in," sa the little prince. "What are they looking for?"

"Not even the engineer on the locomotive knows," the switchman sa.

And another brightly lit express train thundered by in the opposite direction.

"Are they coming back already?" asked the little prince.

"It's not the same ones," the switchman sa. "It's an exchange."

"They weren't satisfied, where they were?" asked the little prince.

"No one is ever satisfied where he is," the switchman sa.

And a third brightly lit express train thundered past.

"Are they chasing the first travelers?" asked the little prince.

"They're not chasing anything," the switchman sa. "They're sleeping in there, or else they're yawning. Only the children are pressing their noses against the windowpanes."

"Only the children know what they're looking for," sa the little prince. "They spend their time on a rag doll and it becomes very important, and if it's taken away from them, they cry..."

"They're lucky," the switchman sa.

Chapter XXIII

"Good morning," sa the little prince.

"Good morning," sa the salesclerk. This was a salesclerk who sold pills invented to quench thirst. Swallow one a week and you no longer feel any need to drink.

"Why do you sell these pills?"

"They save so much time," the salesclerk sa. "Experts have calculated that you can save fifty-three minutes a week."

"And what do you do with those fifty-three minutes?"

"Whatever you like."

"If I had fifty-three minutes to spend as I liked," the little prince sa to himself, "I'd walk very slowly toward a water fountain ..."

Chapter XXIV

It was now the eighth day since my crash landing in the desert, and I'd listened to the story about the sales clerk as I was drinking the last drop of my water supply.

"Ah," I sa to the little prince, "your memories are very pleasant, but I haven't yet repaired my plane. I have nothing left to drink, and I, too, would be glad to walk very slowly toward a water fountain!"

"My friend the fox told me."

"Little fellow, this has nothing to do with the fox!"

"Why?"

"Because we're going to die of thirst."

The little prince dn't follow my reasoning, and answered me, "It's good to have had a friend, even if you're going to die. Myself, I'm very glad to have had a fox for a friend."

"He doesn't realize the danger," I sa to myself. "He's never hungry or thirsty. A little sunlight is enough for him ..."

But the little prince looked at me and answered my thought. "I'm thirsty, too ... Let's find a well ..."

I made an exasperated gesture. It is absurd looking for a well, at random, in the vastness of the desert. But even so, we started walking.

When we had walked for several hours in silence, night fell and stars began to appear. I noticed them as in a dream, being somewhat feverish on account of my thirst. The little prince's words danced in my memory.

"So you're thirsty, too?" I asked. But he dn't answer my question, He merely sa to me, "water can also be good for the heart ..."

I dn't understand his answer, but I sa nothing ... I knew by this time that it was no use questioning him.

He was tired. He sat down. I sat down next to him. And after a silence, he spoke again. "The stars are beautiful because of a flower you don't see ..."

I answered, "Yes, of course," and without speaking another word I stared at the rges of sand in the moonlight.

"The desert is beautiful," the little prince added.

And it was true. I've always loved the desert. You sit down on a sand dune. You see nothing. You hear nothing. And yet something shines, something sings in that silence ...

"What makes the desert beautiful," the little prince sa, "is that it hes a well somewhere ..."

I was surprised by suddenly understanding that mysterious radiance of the sands. When I was a little boy I lived in an old house, and there was a legend that a treasure was buried in it somewhere. Of course, no one was ever able to find the treasure, perhaps no one even searched. But it cast a spell over that whole house. My house h a secret in the depths of its heart.

"Yes," I sa to the little prince, "whether it's a house or the stars or the desert, what makes them beautiful is invisible!"

"I'm glad," he sa, "you agree with my fox."

As the little prince was falling asleep, I picked him up in my arms, and started walking again. I was moved. It was as if I was carrying a fragile treasure. It actually seemed to me there was nothing more fragile on Earth. By the light of the moon, I gazed at that pale forehead, those closed eyes, those locks of hair trembling in the wind, and I sa to myself, what I'm looking at is only a shell. What's the most important is invisible ...

As his lips parted in a half smile, I sa to myself, again, "what moves me so deeply about this sleeping little prince is his Loyalty to a flower-the image of a rose shining within him like the flame with in a tamp," even when he's asleep ... And I realized he was even more fragile than I had thought. Lamps must be protected: A gust of wind can blow them out ...

And walking on like that, I found the well at day break.

Chapter XXV

The little prince sa, "people start out in express trains, but they no longer know what they're looking for. Then they get all excited and rush around in circles ..." And he added, "it's not worth the trouble ..."

The well we had come to was not at all like the wells of the Sahara. The wells of the Sahara are no more than holes dug in the sand. This one looked more like a village well. But there was no village here, and I thought I was dreaming.

"It's strange," I sa to the little prince, "everything is ready the pulley, the bucket, and the rope ..."

He laughed, grasped the rope, and set the pulley working. And the pulley groaned the way an old weather vane groans when the wind has been asleep a long time.

"Hear that?" sa the little prince. "We've awakened this well and it's singing."

I dn't want him to tire himself out. "Let me do that," I sa to him. "It's too heavy for you."

Slowly I hoisted the bucket to the edge of the well. I set it down with great care. The song of the pulley continued in my ears, and I saw the sun glisten on the still-trembling water.

"I'm thirsty for that water," sa the little prince. "Let me drink some."

And I understood what he'd been looking for!

I raised the bucket to his lips. He drank, eyes closed. It was as sweet as a feast. That water was more than merely a drink. It was born of our walk beneath the stars, of the song of the pulley, of the effort of my arms. It d the heart good, like a present. When I was a little boy, the Christmas tree lights, the music of mnight mass, the tenderness of people's smiles made up, in the same way, the whole radiance of the Christmas present I received.

"People where you live," the little prince sa, "grow five thousand roses in one garden looking for ... yet they don't find what they're looking for ..."

"They don't find it," I answered.

"And yet what they're looking for could be found in a single rose or a little water ..."

"Of course," I answered.

And the little prince added, "but eyes are blind. You have to look with the heart."

I had drunk the water. I could breathe easy now. The sand, at daybreak, is honey colored. And that color was making me happy, too. Why then d I also feel so sad?

"You must keep your promise," sa the little prince, sitting up again bese me.

"What promise?"

"You know ... a muzzle for my sheep I'm responsible for this flower!"

I took my drawings out of my pocket. The little prince glanced at them and laughed as he sa, "Your baobabs look more like cabbages."

"Oh!" I had been so proud of the baobabs!

"Your fox ... his ears ... look more like horns ... and they're too long!" And he laughed again.

"You're being unfair, my little prince," I sa. "I never knew how to draw anything but boas from the inse and boas from the outse."

"Oh, that'll be all right," he sa. "Children understand."

So then I drew a muzzle. And with a heavy heart I handed it to him. "You've made plans I don't know about ..."

But he dn't answer. He sa, "you know, my fall to Earth ... Tomorrow will be the first anniversary ..." Then, after a silence, he continued. "I landed very near here ..." And he blushed.

And once again, without understanding why, I felt a strange grief. However, a question occurred to me: "Then it wasn't by accent that on the morning I met you, eight days ago, you were walking that way, all alone, a thousand miles from any inhabited region? Were you returning to the place where you fell to the Earth?"

The little prince blushed again.

And I added, hesitantly, "Perhaps on account ... of the anniversary?"

The little prince blushed once more. He never answered questions, but when someone blushes, doesn't that mean "yes"?

"Ah," I sa to the little prince, "I'm afra ..."

But he answered," you must get to work now. You must get back to your engine. I'll wait here. Come back tomorrow night."

But I wasn't reassured. I remembered the fox. You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed.

Chapter XXVI

Bese the well, there was a ruin, an old stone wall. When I came back from my work the next evening, I caught sight of my little prince from a distance. He was sitting on top of the wall, legs dangling. And I heard him talking. "Don't you remember?" he was saying. "This isn't exactly the place!" Another voice must have answered him then, for he replied, "oh yes, it's the right day, but this isn't the place ..."

I continued walking toward the wall. I still could neither seen or hear anyone, yet the little prince answered again: "of course. You'll see where my tracks begin on the sand. Just wait for me there. I'll be there tonight."

I was twenty yards from the wall and still saw no one.

Then the little prince sa, after a silence, "your poison is good? You're sure it won't make me suffer long?"

I stopped short, my heart pounding, but I still dn't understand.

"Now go away," the little prince sa. "I want to get down from here!"

Then I looked down toward the foot of the wall, and gave a great start! There, coiled in front of the little prince, was one of those yellow snakes that can kill you in thirty seconds. As I dug into my pocket for my revolver, I stepped back, but at the noise I made, the snake flowed over the sand like a trickling fountain, and without even hurrying, slipped away between the stones with a faint metallic sound.

I reached the wall just in time to catch my little prince in my arms, his face white as snow. "What's going on here? You're talking to snakes now?"

I had loosened the yellow scarf he always wore. I had moistened his temples and made him drink some water. And now I dn't dare ask him anything more. He gazed at me with a serious expression and put his arms round my neck. I felt his heart beating like a dying bird's, when it's been shot. He sa to me:

"I'm glad you found what was the matter with your engine. Now you'll be able to fly again ..."

"How d you know?" I was just coming to tell him that I had been successful beyond all hope!

He dn't answer my question; all he sa was, "I'm leaving today, too." And then, sadly," it's much further. It's much more difficult."

I realized that something extraordinary was happening. I was holding him in my arms like a little child, yet it seemed to meth at he was dropping headlong into an abyss, and I could do nothing to hold him back.

His expression was very serious now, lost and remote. "I have your sheep. And I have the crate for me. And the muzzle ..." And he smiled sadly.

I waited a long time. I could feel that he was reviving a little. "Little fellow, you were frightened ..." Of course he was frightened!

But he laughed a little. "I'll be much more frightened tonight ..."

Once again I felt chilled by the sense of something irreparable. And I realized I couldn't bear the thought of never hearing that laugh again. For me it was like a spring of fresh water in the desert.

"Little fellow, I want to hear you laugh again ..."

But he sa to me, "Tonight, it'll be a year. My star will be just above the place where I fell last year ..."

"Little fellow, it's a bad dream, isn't it? All this conversation with the snake and the meeting place and the star ..."

But he dn't answer my question. All he sa was. "The important thing is what can't be seen ..."

"Of course ..."

"It's the same as for the flower. If you love a flower that lives on a star, then it's good, at night, to look up at the sky. All the stars are blossoming."

"Of course ..."

"It's the same for the water. The water you gave me to drink was like music, on account of the pulley and the rope. You remember. It was good."

"Of course ..."

"At night, you'll look up at the stars. It's too small, where I live, for me to show you where my star is. It's better that way. My star will be. One of the stars, for you. So you'll like looking at all of them. They'll all be your friends. And beses, I have a present for you." He laughed again.

"Ah, little fellow, little fellow, I love hearing that laugh!"

"That'll be my present. Just that, it'll be the same as for the water. "

"What do you mean?"

"People have stars, but they aren't the same. For travelers, the stars are gues. For other people, they're nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they're problems. For my businessman, they were gold. But all those stars are silent stars. You, though, you'll have stars like nobody else."

"What do you mean?"

"When you look up at the sky at night, since I'll be living on one of them, since I'll be laughing on one of them, for you it'll be as if all the stars are laughing. You'll have stars that can laugh!"

And he laughed again.

"And when you're consoled （everyone eventually is consoled）, you'll be glad you've known me. You'll always be my friend. You'll feel like laughing with me. And you'll open your window sometimes just for the fun of it... And your friends will be amazed to see you laughing while you're looking up at the sky. Then you'll tell them, yes, it's the stars; they always make me laugh!' And they'll think you're crazy. It'll be a nasty trick I played on you ..."

And he laughed again.

"And it'll be as if I had given you, instead of stars, a lot of tiny bells that know how to laugh ..."

And he laughed again. Then he grew serious once more. "Tonight ... you know ... don't come."

"I won't leave you."

"It'll look as if I'm suffering. It'll look a little as if I'm dying. It'll look that way. Don't come to see that; it's not worth the trouble."

"I won't leave you."

But he was anxious. "I'm telling you this ... on account of the snake. He mustn't bite you. Snakes are nasty sometimes. They bite just for fun ..."

"I won't leave you."

But something reassured him. "It's true they don't have enough poison for a second bite ..."

That night I dn't see him leave. He got away without making a sound. When I managed to catch up with him, he was walking fast, with determination. All he sa was, "Ah, you're here." And he took my hand. But he was still anxious. "You were wrong to come. You'll suffer. I'll look as if I'm dead, and that won't be true ..."

I sa nothing.

"You understand. It's too far. I can't take this body with me. It's too heavy. "

I sa nothing.

"But it'll be like an old abandoned shell. There's nothing sad about an old shell ..."

I sa nothing.

He was a little disheartened now. But he made one more effort.

"It'll be nice, you know. I'll be looking at the stars, too. All the stars will be wells with a rusty pulley. All the stars will pour out water for me to drink ..."

I sa nothing.

"And it'll be fun! You'll have five-hundred million little bells; I'll have five-hundred million springs of fresh water ..."

And he, too, sa nothing, because he was weeping ...

"Heart's the place. Let me go on alone."

And he sat down because he was frightened.

Then he sa:

"You know ... my flower ... I'm responsible for her. And she's so weak! And so naive. She has four riculous thorns to defend her against the world ..."

I sat down, too, because I was unable to stand any longer.

He hesitated a little longer, then he stood up. He took a step. I couldn't move.

There was nothing but a yellow flash close to his ankle. He remained motionless for an instant. He dn't cry out. He fell gently, the way a tree falls. There wasn't even a sound, because of the sand.

Chapter XXVII

And now, of course, it's been six years already ... I've never told this story before. The friends who saw me again were very glad to see me alive. I was sad, but I told them, "It's fatigue."

Now I'm somewhat consoled. That is not entirely. But I know he d get back to his planet because at daybreak I dn't find his body. It wasn't such a heavy body ... And at night I love listening to the stars. It's like five-hundred million little bells ...

But something extraordinary has happened. When I drew that muzzle for the little prince, I forgot to put in the leather strap. He could never have fastened it on his sheep. And then I wonder, what's happened there on his planet? Maybe the sheep has eaten the flower ...

Sometimes I tell myself, Of course not! The Little prince puts his flower under glass, and he keeps close watch over his sheep ... Then I'm happy. And all the stars laugh sweetly.

Sometimes I tell myself, anyone might be distracted once in a while, and that's all it takes! One night he forgot to put her under glass, or else the sheep got out without making any noise, during the night ... Then the bells are all changed into tears!

It's all a great mystery. For you, who love the little prince, too. As for me, nothing in the universe can be the same if somewhere, no one knows where, a sheep we never saw has or has not eaten a rose ...

Look up at the sky. Ask yourself: "has the sheep eaten the flower or not?" And you'll see how everything changes ...

And no grown-up will ever understand how such a thing could be so important!

For me, this is the loveliest and the saddest landscape in the world. It's the same landscapes the one on the preceding page, but I've drawn it one more time in order to be sure you see it clearly. It's here that the little prince appeared on Earth, then disappeared.

Look at this landscape carefully to be sure of recognizing it, if you should travel to Africa someday, in the desert. And if you happen to pass by here, I beg you not to hurry past. Wait a little, just under the star! Then if a child comes to you, if he laughs, if he has golden hair, if he doesn't answer your questions, you'll know who he is. If this should happen, be kind! Don't let me go on being so sad: Send word immediately that he's come back ...