The Happy Prince Page #6

The Happy Prince and Other Tales is a collection of stories for children by Oscar Wilde first published in May 1888. It contains five stories: "The Happy Prince", "The Nightingale and the Rose", "The Selfish Giant", "The Devoted Friend", and "The Remarkable Rocket".

• Children

								

the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had
covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above
the children’s heads.  The birds were flying about and twittering with
delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and
laughing.  It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter.
It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little
boy.  He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the
tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly.  The poor tree
was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was
blowing and roaring above it.  “Climb up! little boy,” said the Tree, and
it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.

And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out.  “How selfish I have
been!” he said; “now I know why the Spring would not come here.  I will
put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock
down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s playground for ever
and ever.”  He was really very sorry for what he had done.

So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went
out into the garden.  But when the children saw him they were so
frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again.
Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that
he did not see the Giant coming.  And the Giant stole up behind him and
took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree.  And the tree
broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the
little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant’s
neck, and kissed him.  And the other children, when they saw that the
Giant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came
the Spring.  “It is your garden now, little children,” said the Giant,
and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall.  And when the people
were going to market at twelve o’clock they found the Giant playing with
the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.

All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to
bid him good-bye.

“But where is your little companion?” he said: “the boy I put into the
tree.”  The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.

“We don’t know,” answered the children; “he has gone away.”

“You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,” said the Giant.
But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had
never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.

Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with
the Giant.  But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again.
The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first
little friend, and often spoke of him.  “How I would like to see him!” he
used to say.

Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble.  He could not
play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the
children at their games, and admired his garden.  “I have many beautiful
flowers,” he said; “but the children are the most beautiful flowers of
all.”

One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing.  He
did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring
asleep, and that the flowers were resting.

Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked.  It
certainly was a marvellous sight.  In the farthest corner of the garden
was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms.  Its branches were
all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood
the little boy he had loved.

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden.  He
hastened across the grass, and came near to the child.  And when he came
quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, “Who hath dared to
wound thee?”  For on the palms of the child’s hands were the prints of
two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.

“Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell me, that I may
take my big sword and slay him.”

“Nay!” answered the child; “but these are the wounds of Love.”

“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he
knelt before the little child.

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, “You let me play once
in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is
Paradise.”

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying
dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.

                 [Picture: Decorative graphic of wreath]




The Devoted Friend.


                      [Picture: Hans and the Miller]

ONE morning the old Water-rat put his head out of his hole.  He had
bright beady eyes and stiff grey whiskers and his tail was like a long
bit of black india-rubber.  The little ducks were swimming about in the
pond, looking just like a lot of yellow canaries, and their mother, who
was pure white with real red legs, was trying to teach them how to stand
on their heads in the water.

“You will never be in the best society unless you can stand on your
heads,” she kept saying to them; and every now and then she showed them
how it was done.  But the little ducks paid no attention to her.  They
were so young that they did not know what an advantage it is to be in
society at all.

“What disobedient children!” cried the old Water-rat; “they really
deserve to be drowned.”

“Nothing of the kind,” answered the Duck, “every one must make a
beginning, and parents cannot be too patient.”

“Ah! I know nothing about the feelings of parents,” said the Water-rat;
“I am not a family man.  In fact, I have never been married, and I never
intend to be.  Love is all very well in its way, but friendship is much
higher.  Indeed, I know of nothing in the world that is either nobler or
rarer than a devoted friendship.”

“And what, pray, is your idea of the duties of a devoted friend?” asked a
Green Linnet, who was sitting in a willow-tree hard by, and had overheard
the conversation.

“Yes, that is just what I want to know,” said the Duck; and she swam away
to the end of the pond, and stood upon her head, in order to give her
children a good example.

“What a silly question!” cried the Water-rat.  “I should expect my
devoted friend to be devoted to me, of course.”

“And what would you do in return?” said the little bird, swinging upon a
silver spray, and flapping his tiny wings.

“I don’t understand you,” answered the Water-rat.

“Let me tell you a story on the subject,” said the Linnet.

“Is the story about me?” asked the Water-rat.  “If so, I will listen to
it, for I am extremely fond of fiction.”

“It is applicable to you,” answered the Linnet; and he flew down, and
alighting upon the bank, he told the story of The Devoted Friend.

“Once upon a time,” said the Linnet, “there was an honest little fellow
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