"When I am on earth, I shall have to invent the thing that gives happiness.... Would you like to see it?... It is over there, between those two columns...." Tyltyl turned round to look; but all the Children at once rushed at him, shouting: "No, no, come and see mine!..." "No, mine is much finer!..." "Mine is a wonderful invention!..." "Mine is made of sugar!..." "His is no good!..." "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 fly-wheels and driving-wheels and cog-wheels 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 wicker-work. [Illustration: Other Blue Children unfolded maps and plans, or brought enormous flowers] "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!..."