LITMIR.BIZ

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rel="nofollow" href="#n_4" type="note">[4] somewhere, and get lost[5].”

      My friend laughed loudly:

      “But where do you think he can go?”

      “Anywhere. Straight ahead of him.”

      Then the little prince said, earnestly:

      “That doesn’t matter. Where I live, everything is so small!”

      And, with sadness, he added:

      “Straight ahead of him, nobody can go very far.”

      4

      Thus I learned an important fact: the little prince’s planet was no larger than a house!

      But that did not really surprise me much. I knew very well that in addition to the great planets to which we gave names—such as the Earth, Jupiter, Mars, Venus—there are also hundreds of others. Some of them are very small. It’s hard to see them even through the telescope. When an astronomer discovers one of these he does not give it a name, but only a number. He might call it, for example, “Asteroid 325”.

      I have serious reason to believe that the planet from which the little prince came is the asteroid known as B-612. This asteroid was seen through the telescope only once, by a Turkish astronomer, in 1909. He had presented it to the International Astronomical Congress. But he was in Turkish costume, and so nobody believed what he said.

      Grown-ups are like that.

      Fortunately, however, in 1920 the astronomer gave his presentation again, dressed in European costume. And this time everybody accepted his report.

      Why do I tell you these details about the asteroid? Because I want to talk about the grown-ups. When you tell them that you have a new friend, they never ask you any important questions. They never say to you, “What does his voice sound like? What games does he like? Does he collect butterflies?” Instead, they demand: “How old is he? How many brothers has he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?” Only from these figures they think they learn anything about him.

      If you say to the grown-ups: “I saw a beautiful house made of rosy brick, with geraniums in the windows and doves on the roof,” they won’t have any idea of that house at all. You must say: “I saw a house that cost $20,000.” Then they will exclaim: “Oh, what a pretty house that is!”

      Just so, you may say to them: “The proof that the little prince existed is: he was charming, he laughed, and he was looking for a sheep. If anybody wants a sheep, that is a proof that they exist.” And what will they do? They will shrug their shoulders, and say that you are a child. But if you say to them: ““The planet he came from is Asteroid B-612,” then they will be convinced.

      They are like that. Children must always show great forbearance toward grown-up people.

      But certainly, for us—who understand life—figures are very important. I shall begin this story like a fairy-tale. I want to say: “Once upon a time[6] there was a little prince. He lived on a planet that was very small and he needed a sheep.”

      To those who understand life, that will seem like a true story. Because I do not want anyone to read my book carelessly. I suffered much to write down these memories. Six years passed since my friend went away from me, with his sheep. And I try to describe him here, because I do not want to forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has a friend. And if I forget him, I may become like the grownups who are not interested in anything but figures.

      It is for that purpose that I bought a box of paints and some pencils. It is hard to draw again at my age. I never made any pictures except those of the boa from the outside and the boa from the inside. I made these drawings when I was six. I shall certainly try to make my portraits as true as possible. But I am not sure of success. I make some errors, too, in the little prince’s height: in one place he is too tall and in another too short. And I feel some doubts about the colour of his costume.

      In certain more important details I shall make mistakes, also. But that is something that will not be my fault. My friend never explained anything to me. He thought, perhaps, that I was like himself. But I, alas, do not know how to see sheep through the walls of boxes. Perhaps I am a little like the grown-ups. Maybe I grew old[7].

      5

      As each day passed I learned, in our talk, something about the little prince’s planet and his departure from it, his journey. The information came very slowly. On the third day I heard about the catastrophe of the baobabs.

      This time, once more, I thanked the sheep for it. For the little prince asked me abruptly:

      “It is true, isn’t it, that sheep eat little bushes?”

      “Yes, that is true.”

      “Ah! I am glad!”

      I did not understand why it was so important that sheep can eat little bushes. But the little prince added:

      “Do they also eat baobabs?”

      I noted that baobabs were not little bushes, but, on the contrary, were trees as big as castles; and that even if he takes a whole herd of elephants away with him, the herd cannot eat up one single baobab.

      The idea of the herd of elephants made the little prince laugh.

      “We will put them one on top of the one another[8],” he said.

      But then he made a wise comment:

      “Before they grow so big, the baobabs are little.”

      “That is correct,” I said. “But why will the sheep eat the little baobabs?”

      He answered me at once, “Oh, come, come![9]” And I made a great mental effort to solve this problem, without any assistance.

      Indeed, as I learned, that on the planet where the little prince lived there were—as on all planets—good plants and bad plants. So there were good seeds from good plants, and bad seeds from bad plants. But the seeds were invisible. They sleep deep in the heart of the earth’s darkness, until a little seed desires to wake. Then this little seed will stretch itself and begin—timidly at first—to push a little sprig upward toward the sun. If it is only a sprout of radish or the sprig of a rose-bush, let it grow. But when it is a bad plant, one must destroy it as soon as possible[10].

      Now there were some terrible seeds on the planet that was the home of the little prince; and these were the seeds of the baobab. The soil of that planet was infested with them. A baobab is something you will never, never be able to get rid of[11] if you see it too late. It spreads over the entire planet. And if the planet is too small, and the baobabs are too many, they split it in pieces.

      “It is a question of discipline,” the little prince said to me. “When you finish your own toilet in the morning, then it is time to attend to the toilet of your planet, just so, with the greatest care. You must check all the baobabs regularly. It is very tedious work,” the little prince added, “but very easy.”

      And one day he said to me: “You must make a beautiful drawing. The children where you live must see exactly how all this is. That will be very useful to them. Baobabs always mean a catastrophe. I knew a planet, a lazy man lived there. He neglected three little bushes.”

      So the little prince described it to me. And I made a drawing of that planet. I do not want to be a moralist, but very few people understand the danger of the baobabs. So, children—watch out for the baobabs![12]

      6

      Oh,

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