as slung a bunch of grapes each larger than a pear.

"A bunch of pears!" cried Tyltyl.

"No, they are grapes," said the Child. "They will all be like that
when I am thirty: I have found the way...."

Tyltyl would have loved to taste them, but another Child came along
almost hidden under a basket which one of the tall persons was helping
him to carry. His fair-haired, rosy face smiled through the leaves
that hung over the wicker-work.

[Illustration: Other Blue Children unfolded maps and plans, or brought
enormous flowers]

"Look!" he said. "Look at my apples...."

"But those are melons!" said Tyltyl.

"No, no!" said the Child. "They are my apples! They will all be alike
when I am alive! I have discovered the process!..."

I should never finish if I were to try and describe to my little
readers all the wonderful and incredible things that appeared before
our hero's eyes. But, suddenly, a loud burst of laughter rang through
the hall. A Child had spoken of the King of the Nine Planets; and
Tyltyl, very much puzzled and perplexed, looked on every side. All the
faces, bright with laughter, were turned to some spot which Tyltyl
could not see; every finger pointed in the same direction; but our
friend looked in vain. They had spoken of a king! He was looking for a
throne with a tall, dignified personage on it, wielding a golden
sceptre.

"Over there ... over there ... lower down ... behind you!" said a
thousand little voices together.

"But where is the King?" Tyltyl and Mytyl repeated, greatly
interested.

Then, suddenly, a louder and more serious voice sounded above the
silvery murmur of the others:

"Here I am!" it said proudly.

And, at the same time, Tyltyl discovered a chubby baby which he had
not yet remarked, for it was the smallest and had kept out of the way
till then, sitting at the foot of a column in an attitude of
indifference, seemingly rapt in contemplation. The little King was the
only one who had taken no notice of the "Live Children." His
beautiful, liquid eyes, eyes as blue as the palace, were pursuing
endless dreams; his right hand supported his head, which was already
heavy with thought; his short tunic showed his dimpled knees; and a
golden crown rested on his yellow locks. When he cried, "Here I am!"
the baby rose from the step on which he was sitting and tried to climb
on to it at one stride; but he was still so awkward that he lost his
balance and fell upon his nose. He at once picke