国王的儿子就要结婚了，所以要在举国上下进行庆典。他为自己的新娘已经等了整整一
年，最后她还是赶来了。她是一位俄国公主，坐着由六只驯鹿拉的雪橇从芬兰一路赶来的。
雪橇看上去像一只巨大的金色天鹅，小公主就安卧在天鹏的两只翅膀之间。那件长长的貂皮
大衣一直垂到她的脚跟，她的头上戴着一顶小巧的银线帽子，她的肤色苍白得就如同她一直
居住的雪宫的颜色。她是如此的苍白，在她驶过街道的时候，沿街的人们都惊讶地叹道：
“她就像一朵白玫瑰！”于是大家纷纷从阳台上朝她抛下鲜花。
在城堡的门口王子正等着迎接她的到来。他有一双梦幻般的紫色眼睛和一头金黄色的头
发。一看见她来了，他就跪下一条腿，吻了她的手。
“你的照片好漂亮，”他轻声地说，“不过你比照片更漂亮。”小公主的脸一下子就红
了。
“她先前像一朵白攻瑰，”一位年轻的侍卫对身边的人说，“可此刻却像一朵红玫瑰
了。”整个宫里的人都快乐无比。
这以后的三天中人人都说着：“白玫瑰，红玫瑰；红玫瑰，白玫瑰。”于是国王下令给
那个侍卫的薪金增加一倍。不过他根本就没有拿薪水，因此这道加薪的命令对他没有任何作
用，然而这被视为一种莫大的荣誉，并按惯例在宫廷报纸上登出。
三天过后便举行了婚礼庆典。这是一次盛大的仪式，新郎和新娘在一幅绣着小珍珠的紫
色鹅绒华盖下手牵着手走着。接着又举行了国宴，持续了五个小时。王子和公主坐在大厅的
首座上，用一只纯清的水晶杯子饮酒。只有真诚的恋人才能用这只杯子喝酒，因为只要虚伪
的嘴唇一挨上杯子，杯子就会变得灰暗无光。
“一眼就能看出他们相亲相爱，”那个小侍卫说，“如同水晶一样纯洁！”为这句话国
王再次下令给他加薪。“多么大的荣耀啊！”群臣们异口同声地喊道。
宴会之后举办了舞会，新郎和新娘将要一块儿跳舞，国王答应为他们吹笛子。他吹得很
不好，可没有人敢对他那么说，因为他是一国之君。说真的，他只会吹两种调子，并且从来
也没有搞清楚他吹的是哪一种，不过也无关紧要，因为不管他吹的是什么，人们都会高喊狂
叫：“棒极了！棒极了！”
这次节目的最后一个项目是施放盛大的烟花，燃放的时间正好定在午夜。小公主一生也
没有看过放烟花，因此国王下令皇家烟花手要亲自出席当天的婚礼以便施放烟花。
“烟花像什么样子？”有一天早上，小公主在露天阳台上散步时这样问过王子。
“它们就像北极光，”国王说，他一贯喜欢替别人回答问题，“只是更自然罢了。我本
人更喜欢烟花而不是星星，因为你一直都明白它们何时会出现，它们就如同我吹笛子一样美
妙。你一定要看看它们。”
就这样在皇家花园的尽头搭起了一座大台子。等皇家烟花手把一切都准备完毕，烟花们
便相互交谈起来。
“世界真是太美丽了，”一个小爆竹大声喊道，“看看那些黄色的郁金香。啊！如果它
们是真正的爆竹，它们会更逗人喜爱的。我很高兴我参加过旅游。旅游大大提高见识，并能
除去一切个人的偏见。”
“国王的花园不是世界，你这个傻爆竹，”一枚罗马烛光弹说，“世界是一个大得很的
地方，你要花三天时间才能看遍全世界。”
“任何地方只要你爱它，它就是你的世界，”一枚深思熟虑的转轮烟火激动地喊道。她
早年曾恋上了一只旧的杉木箱子，并以这段伤心的经历而自豪。“不过爱情已不再时髦了，
诗人们把它给扼杀了。他们对爱情抒发得太多，使人们不再相信那么回事。对此，我一点也
不觉得吃惊。真正的爱情是痛苦的、是沉默的。我记得自己曾有过那么一回——可是现在已
经结束了。浪漫只属于过去。”
“胡说！”罗马烛光弹说，“浪漫永远不会消亡，它犹如月亮一样，永远活着。比如，
新郎和新娘彼此爱得多么热烈。关于他们的故事我是今天早晨从一枚棕色纸做的爆竹那儿听
来的，他碰巧跟我同在一个抽屉里面，并且知道最新的宫中消息。”
可是只见转轮烟火摇摇头，喃喃地说，“浪漫已经消亡了，浪漫已经消亡了，已经消亡
了。”她和其他许多人一样，相信假如你把同一件事情反复说上许多次，最后假的也会变成
真的了。
突然，传来一声尖尖的干咳声，他们都转头四下张望。
这声音来自一个高大的，模样傲慢的火箭，它被绑在一根长木杆的顶端。它在发表言论
之前，总要先咳上几声，好引起人们的注意。
“啊咳！啊咳！”他咳嗽着。大家都认真地听着，只有可怜的转轮烟火仍旧摇着头，喃
喃地说，“浪漫已经消亡了。”
“肃静！肃静！”一只爆竹大声嚷道。他是个政客似的人物，在本地的选举中总能独占
鳌头，因此他深知如何使用恰当的政治术语。
“死光了，”转轮烟火低声耳语道，说完她就去睡觉了。
等到周围完全安静下来时，火箭发出第三次咳嗽声，并开始了发言。他的语调既缓慢又
清晰，好像是在背诵自己的记录本一样，对他的听众他从来不正眼去看。说实在的，他的风
度是非常出众的。
“国王的儿子真是幸运啊，”他说道，“他结婚的日子正好是我要升天燃放的时候。真
是的，就算是事先安排好的，对他来说也没有比这更好的了；但话又说回来，王子们总是交
好运的。”
“我的妈呀！”小爆竹说，“我的想法却正好相反，我想我们是为了王子的荣誉而升天
燃放的。”
“对于你来说可能是这样的，”他回答说，“事实上这一点是肯定无疑的。不过对我而
言事情就不一祥了。我是一枚非常神奇的火箭，出身于一个了不起的家庭。我母亲是她那个
时代最出名的转轮烟火，并以她优美的舞姿而著称。只要她一出场亮相，她要旋转十九次才
会飞出去，每转上一次，她就会向空中抛撒七颗粉红的彩星。她的直径有三英尺半，是用最
好的火药制成的。我的父亲像我一样也是火箭，他来自法兰西。他飞得可真高，人们都担心
他不会下来了。尽管如此，他还是下来了，因为他性格善良。他化作一阵金色的雨，非常耀
眼地落了下来。报纸用足吹棒的词句描述他的表演。的确，宫廷的报纸把他称为烟花艺术的
一个伟大成就。”
“烟花，烟花，你是指它吗，”一枚孟加拉烟火说，“我知道它是烟花，因为我看见我
的匣子上写着呢。”
“噢，我说的是火炮，”火箭语调严肃地回答说。孟加拉烟火感到自己受到极大的欺
压，并立即去欺负那些小爆竹了，目的是为了表明自己依旧是个重要的角色。
“我是说，”火箭继续说，“我是说——我说的是什么？”
“你在说你自己，”罗马烛光弹回答说。
“的确，我知道我正在讨论某个有趣的话题，却被人给粗暴地打断了。我讨厌各种粗鲁
的举止和不良行为，因为我是个非常敏感的人。全世界没有哪个人比我更敏感了，对此我深
信不疑。”
“一个敏感的人是指什么？”爆竹对罗马烛光弹问道。
“一个人因为自己脚上生鸡眼，便总想着踩别人的脚趾头，”罗马烛光弹低声耳语道。
爆竹差一点没笑破肚皮。
“请问你笑什么呀？”火箭开口问道，“我就一点没有笑。”
“我笑是因为我高兴，”爆竹回答说。
“这理由太自私了，”火箭脸带怒色地说，“你有什么权利高兴？你应该为别人想想。
实际上，你应该为我想想。我总是想着我自己，我也希望别人都会这么做。这就是所谓的同
情。这是个可爱的美德，我这方面的德性就很高。例如，假定今天夜里我出了什么事，那么
对每一个人来说会是多么的不幸！王子和公主再也不会开心了，他们的婚后生活将会被毁
掉；至于国王，他或许经不住这场打击。真的，我一想起自己所处的重要地位，我几乎感动
得流下眼泪。”
“如果你想给别人带来快乐，”罗马烛光弹说，“那么你最好先不要把自己弄得湿乎乎
的。”
“当然了，”孟加拉烟火说，他现在的精神好多了，“这是个简单的常识。”
“常识，一点不假！”火箭愤愤不平地说，“可你忘了我是很不寻常的，而且非常了不
起。啊，任何人如若没有想象力的话，也会具备常识的。然而我有想象力，因为我从没有把
事物按照它们实际的情况去考虑，我总是把它们想象成另外一回事。至于要我本人不要流
泪，很显然在场的各位没人能够欣赏多情的品性。所幸的是我本人并不介意。能够让我维持
一生的唯一一件事就是想到自己要比别人优越得多，这也是我一贯培养的感觉。你们这些人
都是没有情感的。你们只会傻笑或开玩笑，好像王子和公主不是刚刚结婚似的。”
“啊，正是，”一枚小火球动情地叫道，“难道不行吗？这是一件多大的喜事呀，我只
要一飞到天上去，我就会把这一切都讲给星星听。等我给它们讲起美丽的公主，你会看见星
星们在眨眼睛。”
“啊！多么渺小的人生观！”火箭说，“然而这正是我所预料的。你们胸无大志；你们
既浅薄又无知。噢，或许王子和公主会到有条深深河流的乡村去住；或许他们只有一个儿
子，那个小男孩他王子一样有一头金发和紫色眼晴；或许有一天小男孩会跟保姆一起出去散
步；或许保姆会在一株古老的大树下睡觉；或许小男孩会掉进深深的流水中淹死了。多么可
怕的灾难啊！可怜的人儿，失去了他们唯一的儿子！这真是太可怕了！我永远也忘不了。”
“但是他们并没有失去他们的独子呀，”罗马烛光弹说，“根本就没有任何不幸发主在
他们身上。”
“我从没说过他们会发生不幸，”火箭回答说，“我只是说他们可能会。如果他们已经
失去了独生子，那么再谈此事还有什么意思。我讨厌那些事后反悔的人。不过一想到他们可
能会失去独子，我就会非常难过。”
“你当然会的！”孟加拉烟火大声嚷道，“实际上，你是我所遇到的最感情用事的人。”
“你是我所遇到的最粗俗的人，”火箭反驳说，“你是无法理解我对王子的友情的。”
“噢，你甚至还不认识他呢，”罗马烛光弹怒吼道。
“我从未说过我认识他，”火箭回答说，“我敢说，如果我认识他，我是不会成为他的
朋友的。认识好多朋友，是件非常危险的事。”
“说真的你最好还是不要流眼泪，”火球说，“这可是件要紧的事。”
“我敢肯定，对你是非常要紧，”火箭回答说，“可我想哭就得哭。”说先他还真的哭
了起来，后水像雨点一样从杆子上流下来，差一点淹死两只正在寻找一块干燥的好地方做窝
的小甲虫。
“他必定有真正的浪漫品质，”转轮烟花说，“根本就没有什么可哭的，他却能哭得起
来。”接着她长叹一日气，又想起了那个杉木箱子。
不过罗马烛光弹和孟加拉烟火却是老大不乐意，他们不停地说着：“胡扯！胡扯！”那
声音可真够大的。他们是非常讲实际的，只要是他们反对的东西，他们就会说是胡扯。
这时明月像一面银色的盾牌冉冉升起；繁星开始闪烁，音乐声从宫中传来。
王子和公主正在领舞。他们跳得可真美，就连那些亭亭玉立的白莲花也透过窗户偷看他
俩，大朵的红色罂粟花频频点头，并打着节拍。
随后十点的钟声敲响了，接着十一点的钟声敲响了，然后是十二点。当午夜最后一下钟
声敲响时，所有的人都来到了露天阳台上，国王派人去叫皇家烟花手。
“开始放烟花吧，”国王宣布说。皇家烟花手深深地鞠了一躬，并迈步向下走到花园的
尽头。他带了六个助手，每个助手都本着一根竿子，竿子的顶头捆着一个点燃的火把。
这的确是一场空前盛大的表演。
飕飕！飕飕！转轮烟花飞了上去，一边飞一边旋转着。轰隆！轰隆！罗马烛光弹又飞了
上去。然后爆竹们便到处狂舞起来，接着孟加拉烟火把一切都映成了红彤彤的。“再见
了，”火球喊了一声就腾空而去，抛下无数蓝色的小火星。啪啪！啦啦！大爆竹们也跟着响
了，他们真是痛快无比。他们个个都非常成功，只剩下神奇的火箭了。他浑身哭得湿乎乎
的，根本就无法升空上天。他身上最好的东西只有火药，火药被泪水打湿后，就什么用场也
派不上了。他的那些穷亲戚们，平时他从未打过招呼，只是偶尔讥讽一下，此刻个个都像盛
开着的燃烧的全色花朵，飞到天空中去了。好哇！好哇！宫廷的人们都欢呼起来；小公主高
兴地笑了起来。
“我猜想他们留着我是为了某个更盛大的庆典时用，”火箭说，“毫无疑问就是这个意
思。”他看上去比以前还要傲慢。
第二天工人们来打归清理。“这些人一看就是代表团的，”火箭说，“我要带着尊严来
迎接他们。”于是他就摆出一幅威严的样子，庄重地皱着眉头，仿佛在思考什么雪要的问题
似的。可是他们一点也没有理睬他，直到要离开的时候，他们中的一人碰巧看见了他。
“嘿！”他大喊了一声，“这么破旧的一枚火箭！”说完他便把火箭丢到墙外的阴沟里去了。
“破旧火箭？破旧火箭？”他在空中一边翻滚着一边说，“不可能！大火箭，那个人就
是这么说的。破旧和大这两个发音是非常接近的，的确它们常常是一样的发音。”接着他就
掉进了阴沟里。
“这里并不舒服，”他说，“可没准是个时髦的浴场，他们送我来是为了要我恢复健
康。我的神经的确受到极大的伤害，我也需要休息了。”
这时一只小青蛙朝他游了过来，他有一双明亮闪光的宝石眼睛，和一件绿色斑纹的外衣。
“看来，是个新到的！”青蛙说，“啊，毕竟跟稀泥巴不一样。我只要能享受雨天和一
条阴沟，我便会十分幸福。你认为下午会下雨吗？我真希望如此，可你看这蓝蓝的天空，万
里无云，多么可惜啊！”
“啊咳！啊咳！”火箭说着便咳了起来。
“你的声音多好听啊！”青蛙大声叫道．“真像是青蛙的呱呱叫声，这种呱呱声当然是
世界上最美好的音乐了。今天晚上你可以来听听我们合唱队的演出。我们都在农夫房屋旁的
老鸭池中，月亮一升起我们便开始表演。那可太迷人了，人人都睁着双眼躺着听我们唱。其
实，就在昨天我还听农夫的妻子对她的母亲说，就是因为我们的存在，使她整夜一点儿也睡
不着。能受到这么多人的欢迎，真是谢天谢地。”
“啊咳！啊咳！”火箭生气地说。由于连一句话也插不进去，他感到非常恼火。
“当然了，美妙的音乐，”青蛙继续说，“我希望你能到鸭池来。我要去看我的女儿们
了。我有六个漂亮的女儿，我很担心梭鱼会遇到她们。他是个地道的怪物，会毫不犹豫地拿
她们当早餐吃掉的。好了，再见，我们的谈话真让我开心，我信得过你。”
“谈话，一点不假！”火箭说，“都是你一个人在说话，那不算谈话。”
“总得要人听啊，”青蛙回答说，“我也喜欢一个人谈话。这节省时间，且避免争吵。”
“可我却喜欢争吵，”火箭说。
“我不希望这样，”青蛙得意地说，“争吵太粗俗了，因为在好的社会中，人人都会持
有完全一致的意见。再一次告别了，我看见我的女儿在那边。”说完小青蛙就游走了。
“你是个非常讨厌的家伙，”火箭说，“且教养又很差。我讨厌人们只顾谈论自己，就
跟你这样，要知道此时别人也想说说话，就像我这样。这就是我所说的自私，自私是十分可
恶的事，特别是对于我这种品性的人来说，因为我是以同情心而出了名的。说实在的，你应
该以我为学习榜样，你或许找不到比我更好的榜样了。既然你还有机会，你最好把握住，因
为我差不多马上就要返回宫中去了。我在宫中是个大宠儿；其实，王子和公主在昨天就为庆
祝我而举办了婚礼。当然，这些事你是一无所知的，因为你是个乡巴佬。”
“跟他讲话没有任何益处，”一只蜻蜓开口说，他此刻正坐在一株棕色的香蒲顶上。
“没有任何益处，因为他已经走开了。”
“嗯，那是他的损失，不是我的，”火箭回答说。“我不会仅仅因为他不理会我，就停
止对他说话。我喜欢听自己讲话，这是我最大的乐趣之一。我常常一个人讲上一大堆话，我
可是太聪明了，有时候我连我自己讲的话也不懂。”
“那么你真应该去讲授哲学，”晴蜓说，说完他展开自己一对可爱的纱翼朝空中飞去了。
“他不留在这儿可算是傻极了！”火箭说，“我敢说他并不是经常有这样的机会来提高
智力的。然而，我一点也不介意。像我这样的天才肯定有一天会得人赏识的。”他往稀泥中
陷得更深了。
过了一会儿一只白色的大鸭子向他游了过来。她有一对黄色的腿和一双蹼足，而且由于
她走起路来一摇一摆的，便被视为是个大美人。
“嘎，嘎，嘎，”她叫着说，“你的样子多么古怪啊！我可以问问你是怎么生得如此模
样的吗？或者是由于一次事故造成的？”
“很显然，你一直都住在乡下，”火箭回答说，“不然你会知道我是谁的。不过，我会
原谅你的无知。期望别人跟自己一样了不起是不公平的。等你听说我能够飞上天空并撒下一
阵金色的雨点后，你一定会感到惊讶的。”
“我倒不看重那个，”鸭子说，“因为我看不出它对别人会有什么好处。眼下，要是你
能像牛一样地去犁地，像马一样地去拉车，或像牧羊犬那样地照看羊群，那还算是个人物。”
“我的好人啊，”火箭用十分高傲的语言大声说道，“可见你是属于下等阶层的。我这
样身份的人是永远不会有用的。我们已经有了一定的成就，那就足够了。我本人对各种所谓
的勤劳并没有好感，尤其对像你赞赏的那些勤劳更是一点好感也没有。说实话，我一贯认为
做艰苦的工作仅仅是那些无事可干的人们的一种逃避方式。”
“好吧，好吧，”鸭子说，她是个处事平稳的人，也从未跟任何人争吵过，“各人有各
人的爱好。我想，无论如何，你要在这儿安家落户了吧。”
“啊！当然不会了，”火箭嚷道，“我只是个过路人，一位有名望的客人。事实是我觉
得这地方好无聊。这儿既不宁静，又没有社交生活。说实在的，这儿根本就是郊外。我可能
要回到宫里去，因为我注定了要在世界上做一番成就的。”
“我也曾想过要投身于公众事业中去，”鸭子说，“世上有那么多需要革新的事物。老
实说，我前些时干过一阵会议的主席工作，我们通过决议谴责一切我们不喜欢的东西。然
而，它们好像并没有多大效果。现在我一心从事家务，照看我的家庭。”
“我生来就是为了这个社会的，”火箭说，“我所有的亲戚也都是如此，甚至包括他们
中最卑微的。只要我们一出场，随时都会引起广泛的关注。其实还没轮到我出场呢，不过只
要我一出现，准会是壮观的场面。说到家务事，它会使人早早地衰老，并无心追求更高的目
标。”
“啊！更高的生活目标，它们该有多好呀！”鸭子说，“可它倒使我觉得好饥饿。”说
完她就朝下游泅水而去，同时还“嘎，嘎，嘎”地叫着。
“回来，快回来！”火箭尖声明着，“我有好多话要对你说。”但是鸭子没理会他。
“我很高兴她离去了，”他对自己说，“她的思想的确只算得上一般。”他往稀泥中陷得更
深了，这时才开始想起天才的寂寞来。忽然有两个小男孩身穿白色的粗布衫，手拿一只水
壶，怀里抱着好些柴火，朝岸边跑了过来。
“这一定是那个代表团了，”火箭说着，又努力表现出非常庄重的样子。
“嘿！”其中的一个孩子叫道，“快看这根旧木棍！我不知道它怎么会在这儿。”他把
火箭从阴沟里拾起。
“旧木棍！”火箭说，“不可能！金木棍，这才是他说的。金木棍才是很中听的话。实
际上，他把我错当成宫中的某位显贵了。”
“我们把它放到火里去吧！”另一个孩子说，“它会帮着把水烧开。”
于是他俩把柴火堆在一起，把火箭放在最上面，并点燃了火。
“这下可太棒了，”火箭大声叫道，“他们要在大白天里把我给燃放了，这样人人都会
看见我了。”
“我们现在去睡觉吧，”他俩说，“睡醒时水壶的水就会烧开了。”说完他们便在草地
上躺下身，闭上了眼睛。
火箭浑身都湿透了，所以花了好长时间才把他烤干。不过，到最后火苗还是把他点燃了。
“现在我就要升空了！”他大叫起来，同时把身体挺得笔直笔直的。“我知道我要飞得
比星星更高，比月亮更高，比太阳更高。其实，我会飞得高到——”
嘶嘶！嘶嘶！嘶嘶！他垂直朝天空中飞去。
“太棒了！”他叫了起来，“我要这样一直飞下去，我是多么的成功啊！”
不过，没有人看见他。
这时他开始感到有一股奇怪的刺痛袭遍全身。
“现在我就要爆炸了，”他大声喊道，“我要点燃整个世界，我要声威大震，让所有的
人在这一年里都不再谈论别的事情。”的确他真的爆炸了。呼！呼：呼！火药爆炸了。这是
千真万确的。
可是没有人听见他，就连那两个小孩也没有听见，因为他俩睡得可熟了。
接着他所剩下的只有木棍了，木棍掉下去，正好落在一只在阴沟边散步的鹅的背上。
“天呀！”鹅叫了起来，“怎么下起棍子来了。”说完就跳进河里去了。
“我知道我会创造奇迹的，”火箭喘息着说，然后他就熄灭了。
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET
The Kings son was going to be married, so there were general
rejoicings. He had waited a whole year for his bride, and at last
she had arrived. She was a Russian Princess, and had driven all
the way from Finland in a sledge drawn by six reindeer. The sledge
was shaped like a great golden swan, and between the swans wings
lay the little Princess herself. Her long ermine-cloak reached
right down to her feet, on her head was a tiny cap of silver
tissue, and she was as pale as the Snow Palace in which she had
always lived. So pale was she that as she drove through the
streets all the people wondered. "She is like a white rose!" they
cried, and they threw down flowers on her from the balconies.
At the gate of the Castle the Prince was waiting to receive her.
He had dreamy violet eyes, and his hair was like fine gold. When
he saw her he sank upon one knee, and kissed her hand.
"Your picture was beautiful," he murmured, "but you are more
beautiful than your picture"; and the little Princess blushed.
"She was like a white rose before," said a young Page to his
neighbour, "but she is like a red rose now"; and the whole Court
was delighted.
For the next three days everybody went about saying, "White rose,
Red rose, Red rose, White rose"; and the King gave orders that the
Pages salary was to be doubled. As he received no salary at all
this was not of much use to him, but it was considered a great
honour, and was duly published in the Court Gazette.
When the three days were over the marriage was celebrated. It was
a magnificent ceremony, and the bride and bridegroom walked hand in
hand under a canopy of purple velvet embroidered with little
pearls. Then there was a State Banquet, which lasted for five
hours. The Prince and Princess sat at the top of the Great Hall
and drank out of a cup of clear crystal. Only true lovers could
drink out of this cup, for if false lips touched it, it grew grey
and dull and cloudy.
"Its quite clear that they love each other," said the little Page,
"as clear as crystal!" and the King doubled his salary a second
time. "What an honour!" cried all the courtiers.
After the banquet there was to be a Ball. The bride and bridegroom
were to dance the Rose-dance together, and the King had promised to
play the flute. He played very badly, but no one had ever dared to
tell him so, because he was the King. Indeed, he knew only two
airs, and was never quite certain which one he was playing; but it
made no matter, for, whatever he did, everybody cried out,
"Charming! charming!"
The last item on the programme was a grand display of fireworks, to
be let off exactly at midnight. The little Princess had never seen
a firework in her life, so the King had given orders that the Royal
Pyrotechnist should be in attendance on the day of her marriage.
"What are fireworks like?" she had asked the Prince, one morning,
as she was walking on the terrace.
"They are like the Aurora Borealis," said the King, who always
answered questions that were addressed to other people, "only much
more natural. I prefer them to stars myself, as you always know
when they are going to appear, and they are as delightful as my own
flute-playing. You must certainly see them."
So at the end of the Kings garden a great stand had been set up,
and as soon as the Royal Pyrotechnist had put everything in its
proper place, the fireworks began to talk to each other.
"The world is certainly very beautiful," cried a little Squib.
"Just look at those yellow tulips. Why! if they were real crackers
they could not be lovelier. I am very glad I have travelled.
Travel improves the mind wonderfully, and does away with all ones
prejudices."
"The Kings garden is not the world, you foolish squib," said a big
Roman Candle; "the world is an enormous place, and it would take
you three days to see it thoroughly."
"Any place you love is the world to you," exclaimed a pensive
Catherine Wheel, who had been attached to an old deal box in early
life, and prided herself on her broken heart; "but love is not
fashionable any more, the poets have killed it. They wrote so much
about it that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised. True
love suffers, and is silent. I remember myself once - But it is
no matter now. Romance is a thing of the past."
"Nonsense!" said the Roman Candle, "Romance never dies. It is like
the moon, and lives for ever. The bride and bridegroom, for
instance, love each other very dearly. I heard all about them this
morning from a brown-paper cartridge, who happened to be staying in
the same drawer as myself, and knew the latest Court news."
But the Catherine Wheel shook her head. "Romance is dead, Romance
is dead, Romance is dead," she murmured. She was one of those
people who think that, if you say the same thing over and over a
great many times, it becomes true in the end.
Suddenly, a sharp, dry cough was heard, and they all looked round.
It came from a tall, supercilious-looking Rocket, who was tied to
the end of a long stick. He always coughed before he made any
observation, so as to attract attention.
"Ahem! ahem!" he said, and everybody listened except the poor
Catherine Wheel, who was still shaking her head, and murmuring,
"Romance is dead."
"Order! order!" cried out a Cracker. He was something of a
politician, and had always taken a prominent part in the local
elections, so he knew the proper Parliamentary expressions to use.
"Quite dead," whispered the Catherine Wheel, and she went off to
sleep.
As soon as there was perfect silence, the Rocket coughed a third
time and began. He spoke with a very slow, distinct voice, as if
he was dictating his memoirs, and always looked over the shoulder
of the person to whom he was talking. In fact, he had a most
distinguished manner.
"How fortunate it is for the Kings son," he remarked, "that he is
to be married on the very day on which I am to be let off. Really,
if it had been arranged beforehand, it could not have turned out
better for him; but, Princes are always lucky."
"Dear me!" said the little Squib, "I thought it was quite the other
way, and that we were to be let off in the Princes honour."
"It may be so with you," he answered; "indeed, I have no doubt that
it is, but with me it is different. I am a very remarkable Rocket,
and come of remarkable parents. My mother was the most celebrated
Catherine Wheel of her day, and was renowned for her graceful
dancing. When she made her great public appearance she spun round
nineteen times before she went out, and each time that she did so
she threw into the air seven pink stars. She was three feet and a
half in diameter, and made of the very best gunpowder. My father
was a Rocket like myself, and of French extraction. He flew so
high that the people were afraid that he would never come down
again. He did, though, for he was of a kindly disposition, and he
made a most brilliant descent in a shower of golden rain. The
newspapers wrote about his performance in very flattering terms.
Indeed, the Court Gazette called him a triumph of Pylotechnic art."
"Pyrotechnic, Pyrotechnic, you mean," said a Bengal Light; "I know
it is Pyrotechnic, for I saw it written on my own canister."
"Well, I said Pylotechnic," answered the Rocket, in a severe tone
of voice, and the Bengal Light felt so crushed that he began at
once to bully the little squibs, in order to show that he was still
a person of some importance.
"I was saying," continued the Rocket, "I was saying - What was I
saying?"
"You were talking about yourself," replied the Roman Candle.
"Of course; I knew I was discussing some interesting subject when I
was so rudely interrupted. I hate rudeness and bad manners of
every kind, for I am extremely sensitive. No one in the whole
world is so sensitive as I am, I am quite sure of that."
"What is a sensitive person?" said the Cracker to the Roman Candle.
"A person who, because he has corns himself, always treads on other
peoples toes," answered the Roman Candle in a low whisper; and the
Cracker nearly exploded with laughter.
"Pray, what are you laughing at?" inquired the Rocket; "I am not
laughing."
"I am laughing because I am happy," replied the Cracker.
"That is a very selfish reason," said the Rocket angrily. "What
right have you to be happy? You should be thinking about others.
In fact, you should be thinking about me. I am always thinking
about myself, and I expect everybody else to do the same. That is
what is called sympathy. It is a beautiful virtue, and I possess
it in a high degree. Suppose, for instance, anything happened to
me to-night, what a misfortune that would be for every one! The
Prince and Princess would never be happy again, their whole married
life would be spoiled; and as for the King, I know he would not get
over it. Really, when I begin to reflect on the importance of my
position, I am almost moved to tears."
"If you want to give pleasure to others," cried the Roman Candle,
"you had better keep yourself dry."
"Certainly," exclaimed the Bengal Light, who was now in better
spirits; "that is only common sense."
"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 dont
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 dont 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 ones 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.
"He must have a truly romantic nature," said the Catherine Wheel,
"for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about"; and she
heaved a deep sigh, and thought about the deal box.
But the Roman Candle and the Bengal Light were quite indignant, and
kept saying, "Humbug! humbug!" at the top of their voices. They
were extremely practical, and whenever they objected to anything
they called it humbug.
Then the moon rose like a wonderful silver shield; and the stars
began to shine, and a sound of music came from the palace.
The Prince and Princess were leading the dance. They danced so
beautifully that the tall white lilies peeped in at the window and
watched them, and the great red poppies nodded their heads and beat
time.
Then ten oclock struck, and then eleven, and then twelve, and at
the last stroke of midnight every one came out on the terrace, and
the King sent for the Royal Pyrotechnist.
"Let the fireworks begin," said the King; and the Royal
Pyrotechnist made a low bow, and marched down to the end of the
garden. He had six attendants with him, each of whom carried a
lighted torch at the end of a long pole.
It was certainly a magnificent display.
Whizz! Whizz! went the Catherine Wheel, as she spun round and
round. Boom! Boom! went the Roman Candle. Then the Squibs danced
all over the place, and the Bengal Lights made everything look
scarlet. "Good-bye," cried the Fire-balloon, as he soared away,
dropping tiny blue sparks. Bang! Bang! answered the Crackers, who
were enjoying themselves immensely. Every one was a great success
except the Remarkable Rocket. He was so damp with crying that he
could not go off at all. The best thing in him was the gunpowder,
and that was so wet with tears that it was of no use. All his poor
relations, to whom he would never speak, except with a sneer, shot
up into the sky like wonderful golden flowers with blossoms of
fire. Huzza! Huzza! cried the Court; and the little Princess
laughed with pleasure.
"I suppose they are reserving me for some grand occasion," said the
Rocket; "no doubt that is what it means," and he looked more
supercilious than ever.
The next day the workmen came to put everything tidy. "This is
evidently a deputation," said the Rocket; "I will receive them with
becoming dignity" so he put his nose in the air, and began to frown
severely as if he were thinking about some very important subject.
But they took no notice of him at all till they were just going
away. Then one of them caught sight of him. "Hallo!" he cried,
"what a bad rocket!" and he threw him over the wall into the ditch.
"BAD Rocket? BAD Rocket?" he said, as he whirled through the air;
"impossible! GRAND Rocket, that is what the man said. BAD and
GRAND sound very much the same, indeed they often are the same";
and he fell into the mud.
"It is not comfortable here," he remarked, "but no doubt it is some
fashionable watering-place, and they have sent me away to recruit
my health. My nerves are certainly very much shattered, and I
require rest."
Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled eyes, and a green mottled
coat, swam up to him.
"A new arrival, I see!" said the Frog. "Well, after all there is
nothing like mud. Give me rainy weather and a ditch, and I am
quite happy. Do you think it will be a wet afternoon? I am sure I
hope so, but the sky is quite blue and cloudless. What a pity!"
"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket, and he began to cough.
"What a delightful voice you have!" cried the Frog. "Really it is
quite like a croak, and croaking is of course the most musical
sound in the world. You will hear our glee-club this evening. We
sit in the old duck pond close by the farmers house, and as soon
as the moon rises we begin. It is so entrancing that everybody
lies awake to listen to us. In fact, it was only yesterday that I
heard the farmers wife say to her mother that she could not get a
wink of sleep at night on account of us. It is most gratifying to
find oneself so popular."
"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket angrily. He was very much annoyed
that he could not get a word in.
"A delightful voice, certainly," continued the Frog; "I hope you
will come over to the duck-pond. I am off to look for my
daughters. I have six beautiful daughters, and I am so afraid the
Pike may meet them. He is a perfect monster, and would have no
hesitation in breakfasting off them. Well, good-bye: I have
enjoyed our conversation very much, I assure you."
"Conversation, indeed!" said the Rocket. "You have talked the
whole time yourself. That is not conversation."
"Somebody must listen," answered the Frog, "and I like to do all
the talking myself. It saves time, and prevents arguments."
"But I like arguments," said the Rocket.
"I hope not," said the Frog complacently. "Arguments are extremely
vulgar, for everybody in good society holds exactly the same
opinions. Good-bye a second time; I see my daughters in the
distance and the little Frog swam away.
"You are a very irritating person," said the Rocket, "and very ill-
bred. I hate people who talk about themselves, as you do, when one
wants to talk about oneself, as I do. It is what I call
selfishness, and selfishness is a most detestable thing, especially
to any one of my temperament, for I am well known for my
sympathetic nature. In fact, you should take example by me; you
could not possibly have a better model. Now that you have the
chance you had better avail yourself of it, for I am going back to
Court almost immediately. I am a great favourite at Court; in
fact, the Prince and Princess were married yesterday in my honour.
Of course you know nothing of these matters, for you are a
provincial."
"There is no good talking to him," said a Dragon-fly, who was
sitting on the top of a large brown bulrush; "no good at all, for
he has gone away."
"Well, that is his loss, not mine," answered the Rocket. "I am not
going to stop talking to him merely because he pays no attention.
I like hearing myself talk. It is one of my greatest pleasures. I
often have long conversations all by myself, and I am so clever
that sometimes I dont understand a single word of what I am
saying."
"Then you should certainly lecture on Philosophy," said the Dragon-
fly; and he spread a pair of lovely gauze wings and soared away
into the sky.
"How very silly of him not to stay here!" said the Rocket. "I am
sure that he has not often got such a chance of improving his mind.
However, I dont care a bit. Genius like mine is sure to be
appreciated some day"; and he sank down a little deeper into the
mud.
After some time a large White Duck swam up to him. She had yellow
legs, and webbed feet, and was considered a great beauty on account
of her waddle.
"Quack, quack, quack," she said. "What a curious shape you are!
May I ask were you born like that, or is it the result of an
accident?"
"It is quite evident that you have always lived in the country,"
answered the Rocket, "otherwise you would know who I am. However,
I excuse your ignorance. It would be unfair to expect other people
to be as remarkable as oneself. You will no doubt be surprised to
hear that I can fly up into the sky, and come down in a shower of
golden rain."
"I dont think much of that," said the Duck, "as I cannot see what
use it is to any one. Now, if you could plough the fields like the
ox, or draw a cart like the horse, or look after the sheep like the
collie-dog, that would be something."
"My good creature," cried the Rocket in a very haughty tone of
voice, "I see that you belong to the lower orders. A person of my
position is never useful. We have certain accomplishments, and
that is more than sufficient. I have no sympathy myself with
industry of any kind, least of all with such industries as you seem
to recommend. Indeed, I have always been of opinion that hard work
is simply the refuge of people who have nothing whatever to do."
"Well, well," said the Duck, who was of a very peaceable
disposition, and never quarrelled with any one, "everybody has
different tastes. I hope, at any rate, that you are going to take
up your residence here."
"Oh! dear no," cried the Rocket. "I am merely a visitor, a
distinguished visitor. The fact is that I find this place rather
tedious. There is neither society here, nor solitude. In fact, it
is essentially suburban. I shall probably go back to Court, for I
know that I am destined to make a sensation in the world."
"I had thoughts of entering public life once myself," remarked the
Duck; "there are so many things that need reforming. Indeed, I
took the chair at a meeting some time ago, and we passed
resolutions condemning everything that we did not like. However,
they did not seem to have much effect. Now I go in for
domesticity, and look after my family."
"I am made for public life," said the Rocket, "and so are all my
relations, even the humblest of them. Whenever we appear we excite
great attention. I have not actually appeared myself, but when I
do so it will be a magnificent sight. As for domesticity, it ages
one rapidly, and distracts ones mind from higher things."
"Ah! the higher things of life, how fine they are!" said the Duck;
"and that reminds me how hungry I feel": and she swam away down
the stream, saying, "Quack, quack, quack."
"Come back! come back!" screamed the Rocket, "I have a great deal
to say to you"; but the Duck paid no attention to him. "I am glad
that she has gone," he said to himself, "she has a decidedly
middle-class mind"; and he sank a little deeper still into the mud,
and began to think about the loneliness of genius, when suddenly
two little boys in white smocks came running down the bank, with a
kettle and some faggots.
"This must be the deputation," said the Rocket, and he tried to
look very dignified.
"Hallo!" cried one of the boys, "look at this old stick! I wonder
how it came here"; and he picked the rocket out of the ditch.
"OLD Stick!" said the Rocket, "impossible! GOLD Stick, that is
what he said. Gold Stick is very complimentary. In fact, he
mistakes me for one of the Court dignitaries!"
"Let us put it into the fire!" said the other boy, "it will help to
boil the kettle."
So they piled the faggots together, and put the Rocket on top, and
lit the fire.
"This is magnificent," cried the Rocket, "they are going to let me
off in broad day-light, so that every one can see me."
"We will go to sleep now," they said, "and when we wake up the
kettle will be boiled"; and they lay down on the grass, and shut
their eyes.
The Rocket was very damp, so he took a long time to burn. At last,
however, the fire caught him.
"Now I am going off!" he cried, and he made himself very stiff and
straight. "I know I shall go much higher than the stars, much
higher than the moon, much higher than the sun. In fact, I shall
go so high that - "
Fizz! Fizz! Fizz! and he went straight up into the air.
"Delightful!" he cried, "I shall go on like this for ever. What a
success I am!"
But nobody saw him.
Then he began to feel a curious tingling sensation all over him.
"Now I am going to explode," he cried. "I shall set the whole
world on fire, and make such a noise that nobody will talk about
anything else for a whole year." And he certainly did explode.
Bang! Bang! Bang! went the gunpowder. There was no doubt about it.
But nobody heard him, not even the two little boys, for they were
sound asleep.
Then all that was left of him was the stick, and this fell down on
the back of a Goose who was taking a walk by the side of the ditch.
"Good heavens!" cried the Goose. "It is going to rain sticks"; and
she rushed into the water.
"I knew I should create a great sensation," gasped the Rocket, and
he went out.
End