Erich Kaestner

WHEN I WAS A CHILD

Lessons from Erich Kästner

Erich Kästner was a little older than our century: he was born on February 23, 1899, and he himself spoke in detail and with humor about the circumstances surrounding this event in his autobiographical book “When I was Little.” There is no need to tell readers about his childhood, studies and family: they have the opportunity to learn first-hand, from Kästner himself, even about his distant ancestors and relatives, about his father, a saddler and saddler, who eventually had to leave his own business and take a job as a worker a suitcase factory, about a hairdresser mother who “works day and day” and “curls her hair with curling irons” so that her son can get an education. The quoted words, however, are taken from the story “Emil and the Detectives” - here, as in many of the writer’s other books, there is also a lot of autobiography. Don’t we, when reading the description of Emil’s ride on a horse-drawn horse, remember the same (or perhaps the same) horse-drawn horse-drawn horse that Kästner himself rode in his childhood? And perhaps, when making his Maksik, the “matchbox boy,” a member of the Pichelstein gymnastics union, the writer remembered himself, six years old, who came to the elders for classes at the gymnastics society? Fabian, the hero of the novel of the same name, already an adult, in Berlin, receives a letter from his mother. “Do you still remember,” the mother writes, “how we took our backpacks and hit the road?” Of course, he remembers, as Kästner himself remembered (and described half a century later) his own travels with his mother. In general, he was one of those for whom the memory of childhood is not just dear, but vital: it is precisely this, in his conviction, that allows a person to preserve and maintain the best, most precious in himself.

The novel “Fabian,” also somewhat autobiographical, can give an idea of ​​the years of the writer’s later, post-war life. But more about them later. The story “When I was Little” ends with the events of August 1914. “The World War began, and my childhood ended.” The historical milestone did not just coincide with the age one. For millions of Europeans, it was from this date that, in the words of the poet, the “non-calendar - the Real Twentieth Century” began. Already aged, the writer, who has experienced a lot, recalls with irony and sadness the last peaceful years, the “carefree holidays,” the operetta rulers and military parades that resembled circus performances. With irony, because the seeds of future terrible events were already ripening under the appearance of external well-being: history presented a cruel reckoning to those who did not have enough insight and responsibility to “take off” the rose-colored glasses from their noses in time. With sadness, because after the trials they experienced, many, even the most caustic and sober critics of the era, inevitably felt something like nostalgia, looking back at that irrevocable time.

In 1917, before finishing the teacher's seminary, Erich Kästner was called up for military service. He returned home already in 1919, after the revolution that overthrew the monarchy in Germany, he was going to take the teacher's exam, but at the last moment he changed his mind (the writer talks about the reasons in the same book of memoirs) and decided to continue his education at the university. In Berlin, Rostock, Leipzig, he studied German studies, wrote a dissertation “Objections to Frederick the Great’s article “De la litterature allemande”” and became increasingly convinced that his true vocation was literature.

Kästner's first poems appeared in print back in 1920, in a collection of student works, but were not noticed by anyone then. To earn money, he began to collaborate in newspapers, writing reports, reviews, political feuilletons, and satirical poems. After the scandal caused by the publication of one of these poems, Kästner was forced to stop collaborating with the left-liberal newspaper Neue Leipziger Zeitung and move to Berlin. Even then, some of his working habits had developed: he preferred, for example, to write not at home, but in a cafe, where he became a regular customer for a long time. Many features of his literary style also developed; they appeared with all their brightness in Kästner’s first collection of poems, “Heart on the Waist,” which was published in 1928 and immediately brought him resounding success.

Now, perhaps, it is even difficult for us to understand why these verses were so enthusiastically received in their time. This cannot be explained by their poetic merits alone. They turned out to be extremely in tune with the trends of the times - Kästner satisfied the expectations of the reading public. “This is a poet who represents our generation,” wrote one of the critics of the time. “The poetry of our time cannot sound otherwise... Kästner’s rhymed lines were on everyone’s lips.” Aphoristic, clear in form, they entered everyday life, sounded from the stage, and became catchphrases.

We know what kind of time it was for Germany; we read about it in the novels of Fallada, Remarque and many other writers. The time of post-war inflation and unemployment, mass ruin and sudden enrichment, a time when, amid ideological turmoil, capitalizing on growing discontent, aggravating social contradictions, feeding on revanchist, militaristic, nationalist sentiments, fascism raised its head more and more brazenly.

Kästner writes about all this. About the unemployed and the fattening rich, about suicides and dying children, about the dramas that play out behind the walls of outwardly decent houses, in furnished rooms. He writes with bitterness, sometimes with defiant frankness, without fear of offending sensitive ears. In criticism, they hastened to attribute him to the direction of the so-called “lyrical cynicism”, for some reasons bringing him closer to Brecht, then to Tucholsky; but much more obvious, perhaps, is Kästner’s continuous connection with the traditions of Heine’s irony. This irony turns into sarcasm when he attacks philistine morality, the deceitful pathos of the preachers of militarism and reaction (“You know the land where guns bloom”).

Many of the themes of these first poems are also heard in his most famous novel, Fabian (1931). The hero of the novel is still full of memories of the war. “Scattered throughout the provinces are many isolated houses where crippled soldiers still lie. Men without arms and legs. Men with horrifyingly disfigured faces, no nose, no mouth. Hospital nurses, who can no longer be frightened by anything, administer food to these unfortunates through glass tubes, which they insert into the healed hole where the mouth once was. A mouth that laughed, spoke, screamed."

Fabian, a young man with a university education, is forced to write poetry for an advertising company, but suddenly finds himself without a job. We follow his wanderings around Berlin in the mid-20s, observing scenes of bleak life and moral degradation. “The magical gift of seeing through walls and curtained windows is mere nonsense compared to the ability to endure what you see,” the author notes. He calls his hero a “moralist,” and not without reason: amid the surrounding vulgarity and dirt, Fabian manages to maintain clarity of moral criteria, dignity and integrity. He is undoubtedly close to Kästner himself. But, like Kestner, acutely feeling the trouble, the spirit of an impending catastrophe, he does not know what to do, how to change his life.

DEAR GUYS!

I want to tell you how this book was born. Here's her story. I have a daughter Sasha. She's a big girl now. She herself now often says: “When I was little...” So, when Sasha was very little, she was sick a lot. She either had the flu or a sore throat. And then my ears hurt. If you've ever had an ear infection, you don't need to explain how painful it is. And if it didn’t happen, then there’s no need to explain it either - you’ll never understand it.

One day Sasha’s ear hurt so much that she cried for the whole day and could hardly sleep. I felt so sorry for her that I almost cried myself. And I read her different books or told her funny stories. So I told her about how I was little and threw my new ball under the car. Sasha really liked this story. She liked that dad was also little, he was also naughty and disobeyed, and he was also punished. She remembered it. And now, as soon as she started shooting in her ear, she immediately shouted: “Dad, dad, my ear hurts! Hurry up and tell me how you were little!” And I told her everything that you are about to read. I chose funnier stories: after all, I needed to cheer up the sick girl. And I also tried to make my daughter understand how bad it is to be greedy, braggart, and arrogant. But this does not mean at all that I myself have been like this all my life. I just tried to remember only such cases. And when I didn’t have enough of them, I took them from other dads I knew. After all, each of them was once small too. So all these stories were not made up by me, but actually happened.

Now Sasha has grown up. She gets sick less and reads big, thick books herself.

But I decided that maybe other kids would also be interested in learning about how one dad was little.

That's all I wanted to tell you guys. No, I’ll tell you one more thing in confidence. This book has a sequel. It will be different for each of you. After all, every dad can tell you how he was little. And mom too. I'd like to listen to them myself.

Well, that's it now. Goodbye, guys! I wish you happiness and health.

Respecting you

A. Raskin

When dad was still little and lived in the small town of Pavlovo Posad, he was given a large ball of amazing beauty. This ball was like the sun. No, he was even better than the sun. Firstly, you could look at him without squinting. And he was exactly four times more beautiful than the sun, because he had four colors. But the sun only has one color, and even that is difficult to see. One side of the ball was pink, like a marshmallow, the other was brown, like the most delicious chocolate. The top was blue like the sky, and the bottom was green like grass. Such a ball had never been seen before in the small town of Pavlovo Posad. They specially went to Moscow to pick him up. But I think that in Moscow there were few such balls. Not only children, but also adults came to see him.

“This is a ball!” everyone said.

And it was a truly beautiful ball. And dad was very proud. He behaved as if he had invented this ball himself, made it and painted it in four colors. When dad proudly went outside to play with his beautiful ball, boys came running from all sides.

- Oh, what a ball! - they said. - Let me play!

But dad grabbed his ball and said:

- I'm not giving it! This is my ball! Nobody has this! It was brought from Moscow! Move away! Don't touch my ball!

And then the boys said:

- Oh, you greedy thing!

But dad still didn’t give them his wonderful ball. He played with it alone. And it’s very boring to play alone. And the greedy dad purposely played around the boys so that they would envy him.

And then the boys said this:

- He is greedy. Let's not mess with him!

And they didn’t see him for two days. And on the third day they said this:

-Your ball is okay. It's right. It's big and nicely colored. But if you throw it under a car, it will burst like the worst black ball. So there is no point in turning up your nose so much.

- My ball will never burst! - Dad said proudly, who by that time was so arrogant, as if he himself had been painted four colors.

- It’s about to burst! - the boys laughed.

- No, it won’t burst!

“Here comes the car,” the boys said. - Well, what are you doing? Give it up! Or scared?

And little dad threw his ball under the car. Everyone froze for a minute. The ball rolled between the front wheels and landed under the right rear wheel. The car was all twisted, ran over the ball and rushed on. But the ball remained completely unharmed.

- It didn’t burst! It didn't burst! - Dad shouted and ran to his ball. But then there was a noise as if a small cannon had been fired. The ball burst. And when dad reached him, he saw only a dusty rubber rag, completely ugly and uninteresting. And then dad started crying and ran home. And the boys laughed with all their might.

- Burst! Burst! - they shouted. - Serves you right, greedy!

When dad ran home and said that he himself threw his wonderful new ball under the car, his grandmother immediately spanked him. In the evening, grandfather came home from work and spanked him too.

At the same time he said:

“I don’t hit for the ball, but for stupidity.”

And for a long time afterwards everyone was surprised: how could such a good ball be thrown under a car?

“Only a very stupid boy could do that!” - everyone said.

And for a long time everyone teased dad and asked:

-Where is your new ball?

And only one uncle did not laugh. He asked dad to tell him everything from the very beginning. Then he said:

- No, you're not stupid!

And dad was very happy.

“But you’re greedy and boastful,” said my uncle. - And this is very sad for you. Anyone who wants to play alone with his ball is always left with nothing. This happens in both children and adults. This will be the case for your entire life if you remain the same.

And then dad got very scared, and cried with all his might, and said that he didn’t want to be greedy and boastful. He cried so long and so loudly that his uncle believed him and bought a new ball. True, he was not so handsome. But all the neighborhood boys played with this ball. And it was fun, and no one teased dad about being greedy.

When dad was still little, he was taken to the circus. It was very interesting. He especially liked the wild animal tamer. He dressed very nicely, had a very nice name, and all the lions and tigers were afraid of him. He had a whip and pistols, but he hardly used them.

- And the animals are afraid of my eyes! – he declared from the arena. – My opinion is my most powerful weapon! The wild beast cannot stand the human gaze!

Indeed, as soon as he looked at the lion, it would sit on a pedestal, jump on a barrel and even pretend to be dead, unable to bear his gaze.

The orchestra played carcasses, the audience clapped their hands, everyone looked at the tamer, and he pressed his hands to his heart and bowed in all directions. It was great! And dad decided that he too would become a tamer. To begin with, he decided to tame some not-so-wild animal with his gaze. After all, dad was still little. He understood that such large animals as a lion and a tiger were still too tough for him. You need to start with a dog and, of course, not a very big one, because a big dog is almost a small lion. But a smaller dog would be just right.

And such an opportunity soon presented itself.

In the small town of Pavlovo Posad there was a small city garden. Now there is a large park of culture and recreation, but that was a very long time ago. Grandma went for a walk with little dad in this garden. Dad was playing, grandma was reading a book, and an elegant lady with a dog was sitting nearby. The lady was also reading a book. And the dog was small, white, with big black eyes. With those big black eyes she looked at little daddy as if she was telling him: “I really want to tame myself! Please boy, tame me. I absolutely can’t stand the human gaze!”

Alexander Borisovich Raskin

How dad was little

DEAR GUYS!

I want to tell you how this book was born. Here's her story. I have a daughter Sasha. She's a big girl now. She herself now often says: “When I was little...” So, when Sasha was very little, she was sick a lot. She either had the flu or a sore throat. And then my ears hurt. If you've ever had an ear infection, you don't need to explain how painful it is. And if it didn’t happen, then there’s no need to explain it either - you’ll never understand it.

One day Sasha’s ear hurt so much that she cried for the whole day and could hardly sleep. I felt so sorry for her that I almost cried myself. And I read her different books or told her funny stories. So I told her about how I was little and threw my new ball under the car. Sasha really liked this story. She liked that dad was also little, he was also naughty and disobeyed, and he was also punished. She remembered it. And now, as soon as she started shooting in her ear, she immediately shouted: “Dad, dad, my ear hurts! Hurry up and tell me how you were little!” And I told her everything that you are about to read. I chose funnier stories: after all, I needed to cheer up the sick girl. And I also tried to make my daughter understand how bad it is to be greedy, braggart, and arrogant. But this does not mean at all that I myself have been like this all my life. I just tried to remember only such cases. And when I didn’t have enough of them, I took them from other dads I knew. After all, each of them was once small too. So all these stories were not made up by me, but actually happened.

Now Sasha has grown up. She gets sick less and reads big, thick books herself.

But I decided that maybe other kids would also be interested in learning about how one dad was little.

That's all I wanted to tell you guys. No, I’ll tell you one more thing in confidence. This book has a sequel. It will be different for each of you. After all, every dad can tell you how he was little. And mom too. I'd like to listen to them myself.

Well, that's it now. Goodbye, guys! I wish you happiness and health.

Respecting you

A. Raskin

HOW DADDY THROWED THE BALL UNDER THE CAR

When dad was still little and lived in the small town of Pavlovo Posad, he was given a large ball of amazing beauty. This ball was like the sun. No, he was even better than the sun. Firstly, you could look at him without squinting. And he was exactly four times more beautiful than the sun, because he had four colors. But the sun only has one color, and even that is difficult to see. One side of the ball was pink, like a marshmallow, the other was brown, like the most delicious chocolate. The top was blue like the sky, and the bottom was green like grass. Such a ball had never been seen before in the small town of Pavlovo Posad. They specially went to Moscow to pick him up. But I think that in Moscow there were few such balls. Not only children, but also adults came to see him.

“This is a ball!” everyone said.

And it was a truly beautiful ball. And dad was very proud. He behaved as if he had invented this ball himself, made it and painted it in four colors. When dad proudly went outside to play with his beautiful ball, boys came running from all sides.

- Oh, what a ball! - they said. - Let me play!

But dad grabbed his ball and said:

- I'm not giving it! This is my ball! Nobody has this! It was brought from Moscow! Move away! Don't touch my ball!

And then the boys said:

- Oh, you greedy thing!

But dad still didn’t give them his wonderful ball. He played with it alone. And it’s very boring to play alone. And the greedy dad purposely played around the boys so that they would envy him.

And then the boys said this:

- He is greedy. Let's not mess with him!

And they didn’t see him for two days. And on the third day they said this:

-Your ball is okay. It's right. It's big and nicely colored. But if you throw it under a car, it will burst like the worst black ball. So there is no point in turning up your nose so much.

- My ball will never burst! - Dad said proudly, who by that time was so arrogant, as if he himself had been painted four colors.

- It’s about to burst! - the boys laughed.

- No, it won’t burst!

“Here comes the car,” the boys said. - Well, what are you doing? Give it up! Or scared?

DEAR GUYS!

I want to tell you how this book was born. Here's her story. I have a daughter Sasha. She's a big girl now. She herself now often says: “When I was little...” So, when Sasha was very little, she was sick a lot. She either had the flu or a sore throat. And then my ears hurt. If you've ever had an ear infection, you don't need to explain how painful it is. And if it didn’t happen, then there’s no need to explain it either - you’ll never understand it.

One day Sasha’s ear hurt so much that she cried for the whole day and could hardly sleep. I felt so sorry for her that I almost cried myself. And I read her different books or told her funny stories. So I told her about how I was little and threw my new ball under the car. Sasha really liked this story. She liked that dad was also little, he was also naughty and disobeyed, and he was also punished. She remembered it. And now, as soon as she started shooting in her ear, she immediately shouted: “Dad, dad, my ear hurts! Hurry up and tell me how you were little!” And I told her everything that you are about to read. I chose funnier stories: after all, I needed to cheer up the sick girl. And I also tried to make my daughter understand how bad it is to be greedy, braggart, and arrogant. But this does not mean at all that I myself have been like this all my life. I just tried to remember only such cases. And when I didn’t have enough of them, I took them from other dads I knew. After all, each of them was once small too. So all these stories were not made up by me, but actually happened.

Now Sasha has grown up. She gets sick less and reads big, thick books herself.

But I decided that maybe other kids would also be interested in learning about how one dad was little.

That's all I wanted to tell you guys. No, I’ll tell you one more thing in confidence. This book has a sequel. It will be different for each of you. After all, every dad can tell you how he was little. And mom too. I'd like to listen to them myself.

Well, that's it now. Goodbye, guys! I wish you happiness and health.

Respecting you

A. Raskin

HOW DADDY THROWED THE BALL UNDER THE CAR

When dad was still little and lived in the small town of Pavlovo Posad, he was given a large ball of amazing beauty. This ball was like the sun. No, he was even better than the sun. Firstly, you could look at him without squinting. And he was exactly four times more beautiful than the sun, because he had four colors. But the sun only has one color, and even that is difficult to see. One side of the ball was pink, like a marshmallow, the other was brown, like the most delicious chocolate. The top was blue like the sky, and the bottom was green like grass. Such a ball had never been seen before in the small town of Pavlovo Posad. They specially went to Moscow to pick him up. But I think that in Moscow there were few such balls. Not only children, but also adults came to see him.

“This is a ball!” everyone said.

And it was a truly beautiful ball. And dad was very proud. He behaved as if he had invented this ball himself, made it and painted it in four colors. When dad proudly went outside to play with his beautiful ball, boys came running from all sides.

- Oh, what a ball! - they said. - Let me play!

But dad grabbed his ball and said:

- I'm not giving it! This is my ball! Nobody has this! It was brought from Moscow! Move away! Don't touch my ball!

And then the boys said:

- Oh, you greedy thing!

But dad still didn’t give them his wonderful ball. He played with it alone. And it’s very boring to play alone. And the greedy dad purposely played around the boys so that they would envy him.

And then the boys said this:

- He is greedy. Let's not mess with him!

And they didn’t see him for two days. And on the third day they said this:

-Your ball is okay. It's right. It's big and nicely colored. But if you throw it under a car, it will burst like the worst black ball. So there is no point in turning up your nose so much.

- My ball will never burst! - Dad said proudly, who by that time was so arrogant, as if he himself had been painted four colors.

- It’s about to burst! - the boys laughed.

- No, it won’t burst!

“Here comes the car,” the boys said. - Well, what are you doing? Give it up! Or scared?

And little dad threw his ball under the car. Everyone froze for a minute. The ball rolled between the front wheels and landed under the right rear wheel. The car was all twisted, ran over the ball and rushed on. But the ball remained completely unharmed.

- It didn’t burst! It didn't burst! - Dad shouted and ran to his ball. But then there was a noise as if a small cannon had been fired. The ball burst. And when dad reached him, he saw only a dusty rubber rag, completely ugly and uninteresting. And then dad started crying and ran home. And the boys laughed with all their might.

- Burst! Burst! - they shouted. - Serves you right, greedy!

When dad ran home and said that he himself threw his wonderful new ball under the car, his grandmother immediately spanked him. In the evening, grandfather came home from work and spanked him too.

At the same time he said:

“I don’t hit for the ball, but for stupidity.”

And for a long time afterwards everyone was surprised: how could such a good ball be thrown under a car?

“Only a very stupid boy could do that!” - everyone said.

And for a long time everyone teased dad and asked:

-Where is your new ball?

And only one uncle did not laugh. He asked dad to tell him everything from the very beginning. Then he said:

- No, you're not stupid!

And dad was very happy.

“But you’re greedy and boastful,” said my uncle. - And this is very sad for you. Anyone who wants to play alone with his ball is always left with nothing. This happens in both children and adults. This will be the case for your entire life if you remain the same.

And then dad got very scared, and cried with all his might, and said that he didn’t want to be greedy and boastful. He cried so long and so loudly that his uncle believed him and bought a new ball. True, he was not so handsome. But all the neighborhood boys played with this ball. And it was fun, and no one teased dad about being greedy.

HOW DADDY TAMED THE DOG

When dad was still little, he was taken to the circus. It was very interesting. He especially liked the wild animal tamer. He dressed very nicely, had a very nice name, and all the lions and tigers were afraid of him. He had a whip and pistols, but he hardly used them.

- And the animals are afraid of my eyes! – he declared from the arena. – My opinion is my most powerful weapon! The wild beast cannot stand the human gaze!

Indeed, as soon as he looked at the lion, it would sit on a pedestal, jump on a barrel and even pretend to be dead, unable to bear his gaze.

The orchestra played carcasses, the audience clapped their hands, everyone looked at the tamer, and he pressed his hands to his heart and bowed in all directions. It was great! And dad decided that he too would become a tamer. To begin with, he decided to tame some not-so-wild animal with his gaze. After all, dad was still little. He understood that such large animals as a lion and a tiger were still too tough for him. You need to start with a dog and, of course, not a very big one, because a big dog is almost a small lion. But a smaller dog would be just right.

“After all, all adults were children at first, but few of them remember this.”

This book can be read in 30 minutes, but this fact did not prevent the book from becoming a world classic. The author of the story is the French writer, poet and professional pilot Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. This allegorical story is the author's most famous work. It was first published in 1943 (April 6) in New York. An interesting fact is that the drawings in the book were made by the author himself and became no less famous than the book itself.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Antoine Marie Jean-Baptiste Roger de Saint-Exupéry(French: Antoine Marie Jean-Baptiste Roger de Saint-Exupéry; June 29, 1900, Lyon, France - July 31, 1944) - famous French writer, poet and professional pilot.

Brief summary of the story

At the age of six, the boy read about how a boa constrictor swallows its prey and drew a picture of a snake swallowing an elephant. It was a drawing of a boa constrictor on the outside, but the adults claimed it was a hat. Adults always need to explain everything, so the boy made another drawing - a boa constrictor from the inside. Then the adults advised the boy to quit this nonsense - according to them, he should have studied more geography, history, arithmetic and spelling. So the boy abandoned his brilliant career as an artist. He had to choose a different profession: he grew up and became a pilot, but still showed his first drawing to those adults who seemed to him smarter and more understanding than the others - and everyone answered that it was a hat. It was impossible to talk heart to heart with them - about boa constrictors, the jungle and the stars. And the pilot lived alone until he met the Little Prince.

This happened in the Sahara. Something broke in the plane's engine: the pilot had to fix it or die, because there was only enough water left for a week. At dawn, the pilot was awakened by a thin voice - a tiny baby with golden hair, who somehow ended up in the desert, asked him to draw a lamb for him. The amazed pilot did not dare refuse, especially since his new friend was the only one who was able to see the boa constrictor swallowing the elephant in the first drawing. It gradually became clear that the Little Prince had come from a planet called “asteroid B-612” - of course, the number is only necessary for boring adults who adore numbers.

The whole planet was the size of a house, and the Little Prince had to look after her: every day he cleaned three volcanoes - two active and one extinct, and also weeded out baobab sprouts. The pilot did not immediately understand what danger the baobabs posed, but then he guessed and, in order to warn all the children, he drew a planet where there lived a lazy person who did not weed out three bushes on time. But the Little Prince always put his planet in order. But his life was sad and lonely, so he loved to watch the sunset - especially when he was sad. He did this several times a day, simply moving the chair after the sun. Everything changed when a wonderful flower appeared on his planet: it was a beauty with thorns - proud, touchy and simple-minded. The little prince fell in love with her, but she seemed capricious, cruel and arrogant to him - he was too young then and did not understand how this flower illuminated his life. And so the Little Prince cleaned out his volcanoes for the last time, pulled out the sprouts of the baobabs, and then said goodbye to his flower, who only at the moment of farewell admitted that he loved him.

He went on a journey and visited six neighboring asteroids. The king lived on the first: he wanted to have subjects so much that he invited the Little Prince to become a minister, and the little one thought that adults were a very strange people. On the second planet there lived an ambitious man on third- drunkard, on the fourth- a business person, and fifth- lamplighter. All the adults seemed extremely strange to the Little Prince, and he only liked the Lamplighter: this man remained faithful to the agreement to light the lanterns in the evenings and turn off the lanterns in the mornings, although his planet had shrunk so much that day and night changed every minute. Don't have so little space here. The little prince would have stayed with the Lamplighter, because he really wanted to make friends with someone - besides, on this planet you could admire the sunset one thousand four hundred and forty times a day!

On the sixth planet lived a geographer. And since he was a geographer, he was supposed to ask travelers about the countries from which they came in order to record their stories in books. The little prince wanted to talk about his flower, but the geographer explained that only mountains and oceans are written down in books, because they are eternal and unchanging, and flowers do not live long. Only then did the Little Prince realize that his beauty would soon disappear, and he left her alone, without protection and help! But the resentment had not yet passed, and the Little Prince moved on, but he only thought about his abandoned flower.

The Earth was with the seventh- a very difficult planet! Suffice it to say that there are one hundred and eleven kings, seven thousand geographers, nine hundred thousand businessmen, seven and a half million drunkards, three hundred and eleven million ambitious people - a total of about two billion adults. But the Little Prince made friends only with the snake, the Fox and the pilot. The snake promised to help him when he bitterly regretted his planet. And the Fox taught him to be friends. Anyone can tame someone and become their friend, but you always need to be responsible for those you tame. And the Fox also said that only the heart is vigilant - you cannot see the most important thing with your eyes. Then the Little Prince decided to return to his rose, because he was responsible for it. He went into the desert - to the very place where he fell. That’s how they met the pilot. The pilot drew him a lamb in a box and even a muzzle for the lamb, although he previously thought that he could only draw boa constrictors - outside and inside. The little prince was happy, but the pilot became sad - he realized that he, too, had been tamed. Then the Little Prince found a yellow snake, whose bite kills in half a minute: she helped him, as she promised. The snake can return anyone to where he came from - she returns people to the earth, and returned the Little Prince to the stars. The kid told the pilot that it would only look like death in appearance, so there is no need to be sad - let the pilot remember him while looking at the night sky. And when the Little Prince laughs, it will seem to the pilot that all the stars are laughing, like five hundred million bells.

The pilot repaired his plane, and his comrades rejoiced at his return. Six years have passed since then: little by little he calmed down and fell in love with looking at the stars. But he is always overcome with excitement: he forgot to draw a strap for the muzzle, and the lamb could eat the rose. Then it seems to him that all the bells are crying. After all, if the rose is no longer in the world, everything will become different, but no adult will ever understand how important this is.