Children's stories, English; Fairy tales; Short stories, English
“Common sense, indeed!” said the Rocket indignantly; “you forget that I
am very uncommon, and very remarkable. Why, anybody can have common
sense, provided that they have no imagination. But I have imagination,
for I never think of things as they really are; I always think of them as
being quite different. As for keeping myself dry, there is evidently no
one here who can at all appreciate an emotional nature. Fortunately for
myself, I don’t care. The only thing that sustains one through life is
the consciousness of the immense inferiority of everybody else, and this
is a feeling that I have always cultivated. But none of you have any
hearts. Here you are laughing and making merry just as if the Prince and
Princess had not just been married.”
“Well, really,” exclaimed a small Fire-balloon, “why not? It is a most
joyful occasion, and when I soar up into the air I intend to tell the
stars all about it. You will see them twinkle when I talk to them about
the pretty bride.”
“Ah! what a trivial view of life!” said the Rocket; “but it is only what
I expected. There is nothing in you; you are hollow and empty. Why,
perhaps the Prince and Princess may go to live in a country where there
is a deep river, and perhaps they may have one only son, a little
fair-haired boy with violet eyes like the Prince himself; and perhaps
some day he may go out to walk with his nurse; and perhaps the nurse may
go to sleep under a great elder-tree; and perhaps the little boy may fall
into the deep river and be drowned. What a terrible misfortune! Poor
people, to lose their only son! It is really too dreadful! I shall
never get over it.”
“But they have not lost their only son,” said the Roman Candle; “no
misfortune has happened to them at all.”
“I never said that they had,” replied the Rocket; “I said that they
might. If they had lost their only son there would be no use in saying
anything more about the matter. I hate people who cry over spilt milk.
But when I think that they might lose their only son, I certainly am very
much affected.”
“You certainly are!” cried the Bengal Light. “In fact, you are the most
affected person I ever met.”
“You are the rudest person I ever met,” said the Rocket, “and you cannot
understand my friendship for the Prince.”
“Why, you don’t even know him,” growled the Roman Candle.
“I never said I knew him,” answered the Rocket. “I dare say that if I
knew him I should not be his friend at all. It is a very dangerous thing
to know one’s friends.”
“You had really better keep yourself dry,” said the Fire-balloon. “That
is the important thing.”
“Very important for you, I have no doubt,” answered the Rocket, “but I
shall weep if I choose”; and he actually burst into real tears, which
flowed down his stick like rain-drops, and nearly drowned two little
beetles, who were just thinking of setting up house together, and were
looking for a nice dry spot to live in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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