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[Illustration: The Land of Memory]
THE · BLUE · BIRD
[Illustration: Bluebird] FOR CHILDREN [Illustration: Bluebird]
THE · WONDERFUL · ADVENTURES
OF · TYLTYL · AND · MYTYL · IN
SEARCH · OF · HAPPINESS
BY
GEORGETTE LEBLANC
[MADAME MAURICE MAETERLINCK]
EDITED AND ARRANGED FOR SCHOOLS
BY
FREDERICK ORVILLE PERKINS
TRANSLATED BY
ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS
[Illustration: Publisher Logo]
SILVER · BURDETT & COMPANY
BOSTON · NEW YORK · CHICAGO · ATLANTA
DALLAS · SAN FRANCISCO
COPYRIGHT, 1913
BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1913
BY DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1914
BY SILVER, BURDETT & COMPANY
This School Edition of The Blue
Bird for Children is affectionately
dedicated to the School Children
of America
Georgette Leblanc
(Madame Maurice Maeterlinck)
_To The Teacher_
"The Blue Bird, inhabitant of the
_Pays Bleu_, the fabulous blue country
of our dreams is an ancient symbol
in the folk lore of Lorraine and
stands for happiness."
One of the strongest pieces of imaginative writing for children that
the past decade has produced and one of the most delicate and
beautiful of all times, is "The Blue Bird," by Maurice Maeterlinck,
written as a play, and very successfully produced on the stage.
Georgette Leblanc (Madame Maurice Maeterlinck), has rendered this play
in story form for children, under the title "The Children's Blue
Bird," and in this form it has now been carefully edited and arranged
for schools.
Maurice Maeterlinck was born in Ghent, Belgium, August 29, 1862.
Although trained for the practice of the law and moderately successful
in it, he very early became dissatisfied with the prospect of a career
at the bar. In 1887, the young man moved to Paris and turned his
attention to writing. Shortly after, at the death of his father,
Maeterlinck returned to Belgium where he has since resided most of the
time. His career as an author practically began in 1889, when he
published two plays. At this time he was quite unknown, except to a
small circle, but soon, because of his remarkable originality, we find
him being called "The Belgian Shakespeare," and his reputation firmly
established.
Amidst his Belgian roses he continued to work and dream, and upon his
youthful dreams he built his plays. They are all shadowy, brief
transcripts of emotion, and illustrate beautifully his unity of
purpose, of mood and of thought. Whether in philosophy, drama or
poetry, Maeterlinck is exclusively occupied in revealing or indicating
the mystery which lies only just out of sight beneath the ordinary
life. In order to produce this effect of the mysterious he aims at
extreme simplicity of style and a very realistic symbolism. He allows
life itself to astonish us by its strangeness, by its inexplicable
elements. Many of his plays are really pathetic records of unseen
emotions.
Of all his writings, it is conceded that "The Blue Bird" makes the
strongest appeal to children. Maeterlinck has always had much in
common with the young. He has the child's mysticism and awe of the
unknown, the same delight in mechanical inventions, the same gift of
"making believe."
In "The Blue Bird" Maeterlinck takes little account of external fact.
All along he has kept the child's capacity for wonder; all along he
has preserved youth's freshness of heart. He has, therefore, never
lost the key which unlocks the sympathies of childhood; he still
possesses the passport that makes him free of the kingdom of
Fairyland.
This story of "The Blue Bird" may remind one somewhat of "Hansel and
Gretel," for here Maeterlinck, like Grimm, shows to us the adventures
of two peasant children as they pass through regions of enchantment
where they would be at the mercy of treacherous foes, but for the aid
of a supernatural friend. But the originality, the charm and the
interest of "The Blue Bird" depend on the way in which the author,
while adapting his language and his legends to the intelligence of
youthful readers, manages to show them the wonders and romance of
Nature. He enlists among his characters a whole series of inanimate
objects, such as Bread, Sugar, Milk, Light, Water, Fire and Trees,
besides the Cat, the Dog and other animals, investing them all with
individuality,--making for instance, with characteristic bias, the Dog
the faithful friend of his boy and girl companions and the Cat their
stealthy enemy.
We may not understand his characters, we may not be informed whence
they came or whither they move; there is nothing concrete or
circumstantial about them; their life is intense and consistent, but
it is wholly in a spiritual character. They are mysterious with the
mystery of the movements of the soul.
All through the story we are led to feel that Maeterlinck's spirit is
one of grave and disinterested attachment to the highest moral beauty,
and his seriousness, his serenity and his extreme originality impress
even those who are bewildered by his graces and his mysticism.
"The Blue Bird" will forever live among Maeterlinck's greatest works
and will linger long in the memory of all children, continuing
throughout their lives to symbolize that ideal of ideals, true
happiness,--the happiness that comes from right seeking.
_Contents_
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE WOODCUTTER'S COTTAGE 3
II AT THE FAIRY'S 31
III THE LAND OF MEMORY 49
IV THE PALACE OF NIGHT 65
V THE KINGDOM OF THE FUTURE 89
VI IN THE TEMPLE OF LIGHT 117
VII THE GRAVEYARD 125
VIII THE FOREST 137
IX THE LEAVE-TAKING 157
X THE AWAKENING 169
_Illustrations_
The Land of Memory _Frontispiece_
FACING
PAGE
She herself helped Mytyl 10
They all looked at her with a bewildered air.
They understood that it was a solemn moment 38
Delighted with the importance of his duty,
undid the top of his robe, drew his scimitar
and cut two slices out of his stomach 42
Sugar also wanted to impress the company and,
breaking off two of his fingers, handed them
to the astonished Children 44
Everything vanished and, instead, there appeared
a pretty little peasant's cottage 50
The grandparents and grandchildren sat down to supper 56
The road to the Palace of Night was rather long and
rather dangerous 66
Night sat up, all quivering. Her immense wings beat
around her; and she questioned Tylette in a
trembling voice 68
Wagging her head and stopping every minute to cough,
sneeze and blow her nose 74
A wonderful garden lay before him, a dream-garden
filled with flowers that shone like stars 80
Light's servants were very odd 90
Other Blue Children opened great big books 98
Other Blue Children unfolded maps and plans, or
brought enormous flowers 102
And, in a moment, the Blue Children were crowding
round the tall old man 110
The Cat at once draped her cloak round her, opened
the door and ran and bounded out into the forest 119
A regular waterfall of tears came gushing from her
eyes, flooding all around her 154
Closely pursued by the Dog, who overwhelmed her
with bites, blows and kicks 162
"It's the Blue Bird we were looking for! We have
been miles and miles and miles and he was here
all the time!" 174
CHAPTER I
THE WOODCUTTER'S COTTAGE
Once upon a time, a woodcutter and his wife lived in their cottage on
the edge of a large and ancient forest. They had two dear little
children who met with a most wonderful adventure.
But, before telling you all about it, I must describe the children to
you and let you know something of their character; for, if they had
not been so sweet and brave and plucky, the curious story which you
are about to hear would never have happened at all.
Tyltyl--that was our hero's name--was ten years old; and Mytyl, his
little sister, was only six.
Tyltyl was a fine, tall little fellow, stout and well-set-up, with
curly black hair which was often in a tangle, for he was fond of a
romp. He was a great favorite because of his smiling and good-tempered
face and the bright look in his eyes; but, best of all, he had the
ways of a bold and fearless little man, which showed the noble
qualities of his heart. When, early in the morning, he trotted along
the forest-road by the side of his daddy, Tyl the woodcutter, for all
his shabby clothes he looked so proud and gallant that every beautiful
thing on the earth and in the sky seemed to lie in wait for him to
smile upon him as he passed.
His little sister was very different, but looked ever so sweet and
pretty in her long frock, which Mummy Tyl kept neatly patched for her.
She was as fair as her brother was dark; and her large timid eyes were
blue as the forget-me-nots in the fields. Anything was enough to
frighten her and she would cry at the least thing; but her little
child soul already held the highest womanly qualities: she was loving
and gentle and so fondly devoted to her brother that, rather than
abandon him, she did not hesitate to undertake a long and dangerous
journey in his company.
What happened and how our little hero and heroine went off into the
world one night in search of happiness: that is the subject of my
story.
Daddy Tyl's cottage was the poorest of the countryside; and it seemed
even more wretched because it stood opposite a splendid hall in which
rich children lived. From the windows of the cottage you could see
what went on inside the Hall when the dining-room and drawing-rooms
were lit up in the evening. And, in the daytime, you saw the little
children playing on the terraces, in the gardens and in the hot-houses
which people came all the way from town to visit because they were
always filled with the rarest flowers.
Now, one evening which was not like other evenings, for it was
Christmas Eve, Mummy Tyl put her little ones to bed and kissed them
even more lovingly than usual. She felt a little sad because, owing to
the stormy weather, Daddy Tyl was not able to go to work in the
forest; and so she had no money to buy presents with which to fill
Tyltyl and Mytyl's stockings. The Children soon fell asleep,
everything was still and silent and not a sound was heard but the
purring of the cat, the snoring of the dog and the ticking of the
great grandfather's clock. But suddenly a light as bright as day crept
through the shutters, the lamp upon the table lit again of itself and
the two Children awoke, yawned, rubbed their eyes, stretched out their
arms in bed and Tyltyl, in a cautious voice called:
"Mytyl?"
"Yes, Tyltyl?" was the answer.
"Are you asleep?"
"Are you?"
"No," said Tyltyl. "How can I be asleep, when I'm talking to you?"
"I say, is this Christmas Day?" asked his sister.
"Not yet; not till to-morrow. But Father Christmas won't bring us
anything this year."
"Why not?"
"I heard Mummy say that she couldn't go to town to tell him. But he
will come next year."
"Is next year far off?"
"A good long while," said the boy. "But he will come to the rich
children to-night."
"Really?"
"Hullo!" cried Tyltyl of a sudden. "Mummy's forgotten to put out the
lamp!... I've an idea!"
"What?"
"Let's get up."
"But we mustn't," said Mytyl, who always remembered.
"Why, there's no one about!... Do you see the shutters?"
"Oh, how bright they are!..."
"It's the lights of the party," said Tyltyl.
"What party?"
"The rich children opposite. It's the Christmas-tree. Let's open the
shutters...."
"Can we?" asked Mytyl, timidly.
"Of course we can; there's no one to stop us.... Do you hear the
music?... Let us get up."
The two Children jumped out of bed, ran to the window, climbed on the
stool in front of it and threw back the shutters. A bright light
filled the room; and the Children looked out eagerly:
"We can see everything!" said Tyltyl.
"I can't," said poor little Mytyl, who could hardly find room on the
stool.
"It's snowing!" said Tyltyl. "There are two carriages, with six horses
each!"
"There are twelve little boys getting out!" said Mytyl, who was doing
her best to peep out of the window.
"Don't be silly!... They're little girls...."
"They've got knickerbockers on...."
"Do be quiet!... And look!..."
"What are those gold things there, hanging from the branches?"
"Why, toys, to be sure!" said Tyltyl. "Swords, guns, soldiers,
cannons...."
"And what's that, all round the table?"
"Cakes and fruit and cream-tarts."
"Oh, how pretty the children are!" cried Mytyl, clapping her hands.
"And how they're laughing and laughing!" answered Tyltyl.
"And the little ones dancing!..."
"Yes, yes; let's dance too!" shouted Tyltyl.
And the two Children began to stamp their feet for joy on the stool:
"Oh, what fun!" said Mytyl.
"They're getting the cakes!" cried Tyltyl. "They can touch them!...
They're eating, they're eating, they're eating!... Oh, how lovely, how
lovely!..."
Mytyl began to count imaginary cakes:
"I have twelve!..."
"And I four times twelve!" said Tyltyl. "But I'll give you some...."
And our little friends, dancing, laughing and shrieking with delight,
rejoiced so prettily in the other children's happiness that they
forgot their own poverty and want. They were soon to have their
reward. Suddenly, there came a loud knocking at the door. The startled
Children ceased their romp and dared not move a limb. Then the big
wooden latch lifted of itself, with a loud creak; the door opened
slowly; and in crept a little old woman, dressed all in green, with a
red hood over her head. She was hump-backed and lame and had only one
eye; her nose and chin almost touched; and she walked leaning on a
stick. She was surely a fairy.
She hobbled up to the Children and asked, in a snuffling voice:
"Have you the grass here that sings or the bird that is blue?"
"We have some grass," replied Tyltyl, trembling all over his body,
"but it can't sing...."
"Tyltyl has a bird," said Mytyl.
"But I can't give it away, because it's mine," the little fellow
added, quickly.
Now wasn't that a capital reason?
The Fairy put on her big, round glasses and looked at the bird:
"He's not blue enough," she exclaimed. "I must absolutely have the
Blue Bird. It's for my little girl, who is very ill.... Do you know
what the Blue Bird stands for? No? I thought you didn't; and, as you
are good children, I will tell you."
The Fairy raised her crooked finger to her long, pointed nose, and
whispered, in a mysterious tone:
"The Blue Bird stands for happiness; and I want you to understand
that my little girl must be happy in order to get well. That is why I
now command you to go out into the world and find the Blue Bird for
her. You will have to start at once.... Do you know who I am?"
The Children exchanged puzzled glances. The fact was that they had
never seen a fairy before; and they felt a little scared in her
presence. However, Tyltyl soon said politely:
"You are rather like our neighbor, Madame Berlingot...."
[Illustration: She herself helped Mytyl]
Tyltyl thought that, in saying this, he was paying the Fairy a
compliment; for Madame Berlingot's shop, which was next door to their
cottage, was a very pleasant place. It was stocked with sweets,
marbles, chocolate cigars and sugar dolls and hens; and, at fair-time,
there were big gingerbread dolls covered all over with gilt paper.
Goody Berlingot had a nose that was quite as ugly as the Fairy's; she
was old also; and, like the Fairy, she walked doubled up in two; but
she was very kind and she had a dear little girl who used to play on
Sundays with the woodcutter's Children. Unfortunately, the poor little
pretty, fair-haired thing was always suffering from some unknown
complaint, which often kept her in bed. When this happened, she
used to beg and pray for Tyltyl's dove to play with; but Tyltyl was
so fond of the bird that he would not give it to her. All this,
thought the little boy, was very like that which the Fairy told him;
and that was why he called her Berlingot.
Much to his surprise, the Fairy turned crimson with rage. It was a
hobby of hers to be like nobody, because she was a fairy and able to
change her appearance, from one moment to the next, as she pleased.
That evening, she happened to be ugly and old and hump-backed; she had
lost one of her eyes; and two lean wisps of grey hair hung over her
shoulders.
"What do I look like?" she asked Tyltyl. "Am I pretty or ugly? Old or
young?"
Her reason for asking these questions was to try the kindness of the
little boy. He turned away his head and dared not say what he thought
of her looks. Then she cried:
"I am the Fairy Bérylune!"
"Oh, that's all right!" answered Tyltyl, who, by this time, was
shaking in every limb.
This satisfied the Fairy; and, as the Children were still in their
night-shirts, she told them to get dressed. She herself helped Mytyl
and, while she did so, asked:
"Where are your Father and Mother?"
"In there," said Tyltyl, pointing to the door on the right. "They're
asleep."
"And your Grandad and Granny?"
"They're dead...."
"And your little brothers and sisters.... Have you any?..."
"Oh, yes, three little brothers!" said Tyltyl.
"And four little sisters," added Mytyl.
"Where are they?" asked the Fairy.
"They are dead, too," answered Tyltyl.
"Would you like to see them again?"
"Oh, yes!... At once!... Show them to us!..."
"I haven't them in my pocket," said the Fairy. "But this is very
lucky; you will see them when you go through the Land of Memory. It's
on the way to the Blue Bird, just on the left, past the third
turning.... What were you doing when I knocked?"
"We were playing at eating cakes," said Tyltyl.
"Have you any cakes?... Where are they?..."
"In the house of the rich children.... Come and look, it's so lovely!"
And Tyltyl dragged the Fairy to the window.
"But it's the others who are eating them!" said she.
"Yes, but we can see them eat," said Tyltyl.
"Aren't you cross with them?"
"What for?"
"For eating all the cakes. I think it's very wrong of them not to give
you any."
"Not at all; they're rich!... I say, isn't it beautiful over there?"
"It's just the same here, only you can't see...."
"Yes, I can," said Tyltyl. "I have very good eyes. I can see the time
on the church clock; and Daddy can't!"
The Fairy suddenly grew angry:
"I tell you that you can't see!" she said.
And she grew angrier and angrier. As though it mattered about seeing
the time on the church clock!
Of course, the little boy was not blind; but, as he was kind-hearted
and deserved to be happy, she wanted to teach him to see what is good
and beautiful in all things. It was not an easy task, for she well
knew that most people live and die without enjoying the happiness that
lies all around them. Still, as she was a fairy, she was all-powerful;
and so she decided to give him a little hat adorned with a magic
diamond that would possess the extraordinary property of always
showing him the truth, which would help him to see the inside of
Things and thus teach him that each of them has a life and an
existence of its own, created to match and gladden ours.
The Fairy took the little hat from a great bag hanging by her side. It
was green and had a white cockade, with the big diamond shining in the
middle of it. Tyltyl was beside himself with delight. The Fairy
explained to him how the diamond worked. By pressing the top, you saw
the soul of Things; if you gave it a little turn to the right, you
discovered the Past; and, when you turned it to the left, you beheld
the Future.
Tyltyl beamed all over his face and danced for joy; and then he at
once became afraid of losing the little hat:
"Daddy will take it from me!" he cried.
"No," said the Fairy, "for no one can see it as long as it's on your
head.... Will you try it?"
"Yes, yes!" cried the Children, clapping their hands.
The hat was no sooner on the little boy's head than a magic change
came over everything. The old Fairy turned into a young and beautiful
princess, dressed all in silk and covered with sparkling jewels; the
walls of the cottage became transparent and gleamed like precious
stones; the humble deal furniture shone like marble. The two children
ran from right to left clapping their hands and shouting with
delight.
"Oh, how lovely, how lovely!" exclaimed Tyltyl.
And Mytyl, like the vain little thing she was, stood spell-bound
before the beauty of the fair princess' dress.
But further and much greater surprises were in store for them. Had not
the Fairy said that the Things and the Animals would come to life,
talk and behave like everybody else? Lo and behold, suddenly the door
of the grandfather's clock opened, the silence was filled with the
sweetest music and twelve little daintily-dressed and laughing dancers
began to skip and spin all around the Children.
"They are the Hours of your life," said the Fairy.
"May I dance with them?" asked Tyltyl, gazing with admiration at those
pretty creatures, who seemed to skim over the floor like birds.
But just then he burst into a wild fit of laughter! Who was that funny
fat fellow, all out of breath and covered with flour, who came
struggling out of the bread-pan and bowing to the children? It was
Bread! Bread himself, taking advantage of the reign of liberty to go
for a little walk on earth! He looked like a stout, comical old
gentleman; his face was puffed out with dough; and his large hands, at
the end of his thick arms, were not able to meet, when he laid them on
his great, round stomach. He was dressed in a tight-fitting
crust-coloured suit, with stripes across the chest like those on the
nice buttered rolls which we have for breakfast in the morning. On his
head--just think of it!--he wore an enormous bun, which made a funny
sort of turban.
He had hardly tumbled out of his pan, when other loaves just like him,
but smaller, followed after and began to frisk about with the Hours,
without giving a thought to the flour which they scattered over those
pretty ladies and which wrapped them in great white clouds.
It was a queer and charming dance; and the Children were delighted.
The Hours waltzed with the loaves; the plates, joining in the fun,
hopped up and down on the dresser, at the risk of falling off and
smashing to pieces; the glasses in the cupboard clinked together, to
drink the health of one and all. As to the forks, they chattered so
loudly with the knives that you could not hear yourself speak for the
noise....
There is no knowing what would have happened if the din had lasted
much longer. Daddy and Mummy Tyl would certainly have waked up.
Fortunately, when the romp was at its height, an enormous flame darted
out of the chimney and filled the room with a great red glow, as
though the house were on fire. Everybody bolted into the corners in
dismay, while Tyltyl and Mytyl, sobbing with fright, hid their heads
under the good Fairy's cloak.
"Don't be afraid," she said. "It's only Fire, who has come to join in
your fun. He is a good sort, but you had better not touch him, for he
has a hot temper."
Peeping anxiously through the beautiful gold lace that edged the
Fairy's cloak, the Children saw a tall, red fellow looking at them and
laughing at their fears. He was dressed in scarlet tights and
spangles; from his shoulders hung silk scarves that were just like
flames when he waved them with his long arms; and his hair stood up on
his head in straight, flaring locks. He started flinging out his arms
and legs and jumping round the room like a madman.
Tyltyl, though feeling a little easier, dared not yet leave his
refuge. Then the Fairy Bérylune had a capital idea: she pointed her
wand at the tap; and at once there appeared a young girl who wept like
a regular fountain. It was Water. She was very pretty, but she looked
extremely sad; and she sang so sweetly that it was like the rippling
of a spring. Her long hair, which fell to her feet, might have been
made of sea-weed. She had nothing on but her bed-gown; but the water
that streamed over her clothed her in shimmering colours. She
hesitated at first and gave a glance around her; then, catching sight
of Fire still whirling about like a great madcap, she made an angry
and indignant rush at him, spraying his face, splashing and wetting
him with all her might. Fire flew into a rage and began to smoke.
Nevertheless, as he found himself suddenly thwarted by his old enemy,
he thought it wiser to retire to a corner. Water also beat a retreat;
and it seemed as though peace would be restored once more.
The two Children, at last recovering from their alarm, were asking the
Fairy what was going to happen next, when a startling noise of
breaking crockery made them look round towards the table. What a
surprise! The milk-jug lay on the floor, smashed into a thousand
fragments, and from the pieces rose a charming lady, who gave little
screams of terror and clasped her hands and turned up her eyes with a
beseeching glance.
Tyltyl hastened to console her, for he at once knew that she was Milk;
and, as he was very fond of her, he gave her a good kiss. She was as
fresh and pretty as a little dairy-maid; and a delicious scent of hay
came from her white frock all covered with cream.
Meanwhile, Mytyl was watching the sugar-loaf, which also seemed to be
coming to life. Packed in its blue paper wrapper, on a shelf near the
door, it was swaying from left to right and from right to left without
any result. But at last a long thin arm was seen to come out,
followed by a peaked head, which split the paper, and by another arm
and two long legs that seemed never to end!... Oh, you should have
seen how funny Sugar looked: so funny, indeed, that the Children could
not help laughing in his face! And yet they would have liked to be
civil to him, for they heard the Fairy introducing him in these words:
"This, Tyltyl, is the soul of Sugar. His pockets are crammed with
sugar and each of his fingers is a sugar-stick."
How wonderful to have a friend all made of sugar, off whom you can
bite a piece whenever you feel inclined!
"Bow, wow, wow!... Good-morning! Good-morning, my little god!... At
last, at last we can talk!... Bark and wag my tail as I might, you
never understood!... I love you! I love you!"
Who can this extraordinary person be, who jostles everybody and fills
the house with his noisy gaiety? We know him at once. It is Tylô, the
good Dog who tries his hardest to understand mankind, the good-natured
Animal who goes with the Children to the forest, the faithful guardian
who protects the door, the staunch friend who is ever true and ever
loyal! Here he comes walking on his hind-paws, as on a pair of legs
too short for him, and beating the air with the two others, making
gestures like a clumsy little man. He has not changed: he still has
his smooth, mustard-coloured coat and his jolly bull-dog head, with
the black muzzle, but he is much bigger and then he talks! He talks as
fast as he can, as though he wanted in one moment to avenge his whole
race, which has been doomed to silence for centuries. He talks of
everything, now that he is at last able to explain himself; and it is
a pretty sight to see him kissing his little master and mistress and
calling them "his little gods!" He sits up, he jumps about the room,
knocking against the furniture, upsetting Mytyl with his big soft
paws, lolling his tongue, wagging his tail and puffing and panting as
though he were out hunting. We at once see his simple, generous
nature. Persuaded of his own importance, he fancies that he alone is
indispensable in the new world of Things.
After making all the fuss he wanted of the Children, he started going
the round of the company, distributing the attentions which he thought
that none could do without. His joy, now set free, found vent without
restraint; and, because he was the most loving of creatures, he would
also have been the happiest, if, in becoming human, he had not,
unfortunately, retained his little doggy failings. He was jealous! He
was terribly jealous; and his heart felt a pang when he saw Tylette,
the Cat, coming to life in her turn and being petted and kissed by the
Children, just as he had been! Oh, how he hated the Cat! To bear the
sight of her beside him, to see her always sharing in the affection of
the family: that was the great sacrifice which fate demanded of him.
He accepted it, however, without a word, because it pleased his little
gods; and he went so far as to leave her alone. But he had had many a
crime on his conscience because of her! Had he not, one evening, crept
stealthily into Goody Berlingot's kitchen in order to throttle her old
tom-cat, who had never done him any harm? Had he not broken the back
of the Persian cat at the Hall opposite? Did he not sometimes go to
town on purpose to hunt cats and put an end to them, all to wreak his
spite? And now Tylette was going to talk, just like himself! Tylette
would be his equal in the new world that was opening before him!
"Oh, there is no justice left on earth!" was his bitter thought.
"There is no justice left!"
In the meantime, the Cat, who had begun by washing herself and
polishing her claws, calmly put out her paw to the little girl.
She really was a very pretty cat; and, if our friend Tylô's jealousy
had not been such an ugly feeling, we might almost have overlooked it
for once! How could you fail to be attracted by Tylette's eyes, which
were like topaz set in emeralds? How could you resist the pleasure of
stroking the wonderful black velvet back? How could you not love her
grace, her gentleness and the dignity of her poses?
Smiling gently and speaking in well-chosen language, she said to
Mytyl:
"Good-morning, miss!... How well you look this morning!..."
And the Children patted her like anything.
Tylô kept watching the Cat from the other end of the room:
"Now that she's standing on her hind-legs like a man," he muttered,
"she looks just like the Devil, with her pointed ears, her long tail
and her dress as black as ink!" And he could not help growling between
his teeth. "She's also like the village chimney-sweep," he went on,
"whom I loathe and detest and whom I shall never take for a real man,
whatever my little gods may say.... It's lucky," he added, with a
sigh, "that I know more about a good many things than they do!"
But suddenly, no longer able to master himself, he flew at the Cat and
shouted, with a loud laugh that was more like a roar:
"I'm going to frighten Tylette! Bow, wow, wow!"
But the Cat, who was dignified even when still an animal, now thought
herself called to the loftiest destinies. She considered that the time
had come to raise a tall barrier between herself and the Dog, who had
never been more than an ill-bred person in her eyes; and, stepping
back in disdain, she just said:
"Sir, I don't know you."
Tylô gave a bound under the insult, whereupon the Cat bristled up,
twisting her whiskers under her little pink nose (for she was very
proud of those two pale blotches which gave a special touch to her
dark beauty); and then, arching her back and sticking up her tail, she
hissed out, "Fft! Fft!" and stood stock-still on the chest of drawers,
like a dragon on the lid of a Chinese vase.
Tyltyl and Mytyl screamed with laughter; but the quarrel would
certainly have had a bad ending if, at that moment, a great thing had
not happened. At eleven o'clock in the evening, in the middle of that
winter's night, a great light, the light of the noon-day sun, glowing
and dazzling, burst into the cottage.
"Hullo, there's daylight!" said the little boy, who no longer knew
what to make of things. "What will Daddy say?"
But, before the Fairy had time to set him right, Tyltyl understood;
and, full of wonderment, he knelt before the latest vision that
bewitched his eyes.
At the window, in the center of a great halo of sunshine, there rose
slowly, like a tall golden sheaf, a maiden of surpassing loveliness!
Gleaming veils covered her figure without hiding its beauty; her bare
arms, stretched in the attitude of giving, seemed transparent; and her
great clear eyes wrapped all upon whom they fell in a fond embrace.
"It's the Queen!" said Tyltyl.
"It's a Fairy Princess!" cried Mytyl, kneeling beside her brother.
"No, my Children," said the Fairy. "It is Light!"
Smiling, Light stepped towards the two little ones. She, the Light of
Heaven, the strength and beauty of the Earth, was proud of the humble
mission entrusted to her; she, never before held captive, living in
space and bestowing her bounty upon all alike, consented to be
confined, for a brief spell, within a human shape, so as to lead the
Children out into the world and teach them to know that other Light,
the Light of the Mind, which we never see, but which helps us to see
all things that are.
"It is Light!" exclaimed the Things and the Animals; and, as they all
loved her, they began to dance around her with cries of pleasure.
Tyltyl and Mytyl capered with joy. Never had they pictured so amusing
and so pretty a party; and they shouted louder than all the rest.
Then what was bound to happen came. Suddenly, three knocks were heard
against the wall, loud enough to throw the house down! It was Daddy
Tyl, who had been waked up by the din and who was now threatening to
come and put a stop to it.
"Turn the diamond!" cried the Fairy to Tyltyl.
Our hero hastened to obey, but he had not the knack of it yet;
besides, his hand shook at the thought that his father was coming. In
fact, he was so awkward that he nearly broke the works.
"Not so quick, not so quick!" said the Fairy. "Oh dear, you've turned
it too briskly: they will not have time to resume their places and we
shall have a lot of bother!"
There was a general stampede. The walls of the cottage lost their
splendour. All ran hither and thither, to return to their proper
shape: Fire could not find his chimney; Water ran about looking for
her tap; Sugar stood moaning in front of his torn wrapper; and Bread,
the biggest of the loaves, was unable to squeeze into his pan, in
which the other loaves had jumped higgledy-piggledy, taking up all the
room. As for the Dog, he had grown too large for the hole in his
kennel; and the Cat also could not get into her basket. The Hours
alone, who were accustomed always to run faster than Man wished, had
slipped back into the clock without delay.
Light stood motionless and unruffled, vainly setting an example of
calmness to the others, who were all weeping and wailing around the
Fairy:
"What is going to happen?" they asked. "Is there any danger?"
"Well," said the Fairy, "I am bound to tell you the truth: all those
who accompany the two Children will die at the end of the journey."
They began to cry like anything, all except the Dog, who was delighted
at remaining human as long as possible and who had already taken his
stand next to Light, so as to be sure of going in front of his little
master and mistress.
At that moment, there came a knocking even more dreadful than before.
"There's Daddy again!" said Tyltyl. "He's getting up, this time; I can
hear him walking...."
"You see," said the Fairy, "you have no choice now; it is too late;
you must all start with us.... But you, Fire, don't come near anybody;
you, Dog, don't tease the Cat; you, Water, try not to run all over the
place; and you, Sugar, stop crying, unless you want to melt. Bread
shall carry the cage in which to put the Blue Bird; and you shall all
come to my house, where I will dress the Animals and the Things
properly.... Let us go out this way!"
As she spoke, she pointed her wand at the window, which lengthened
magically downwards, like a door. They all went out on tip-toe, after
which the window resumed its usual shape. And so it came about that,
on Christmas Night, in the clear light of the moon, while the bells
rang out lustily, proclaiming the birth of Jesus, Tyltyl and Mytyl
went in search of the Blue Bird that was to bring them happiness.