ny, the little brothers,
the little sisters and the old blackbird! He did not mind what he
took: joys and sorrows, winters and summers, all was fish that came to
his net!...

Knowing this, our friend was astonished to see everybody in the
Kingdom of the Future running so fast to meet him:

"I suppose he doesn't eat anything here," he thought.

There he was! The great doors turned slowly on their hinges. There was
a distant music: it was the sounds of the earth. A red and green light
penetrated into the hall; and Time appeared on the threshold. He was a
tall and very thin old man, so old that his wrinkled face was all
grey, like dust. His white beard came down to his knees. In one hand,
he carried an enormous scythe; in the other, an hour-glass. Behind
him, some way out, on a sea the colour of the Dawn, was a magnificent
gold galley, with white sails.

"Are they ready whose hour has struck?" asked Time. At the sound of
that voice, solemn and deep as a bronze gong, thousands of bright
children's voices, like little silver bells, answered:

"Here we are!... Here we are!... Here we are!..."

And, in a moment, the Blue Children were crowding round the tall old
man, who pushed them all back and, in a gruff voice, said:

"One at a time!... Once again, there are many more of you than are
wanted!... You can't deceive me!"

Brandishing his scythe in one hand and holding out his cloak with the
other, he barred the way to the rash Children who tried to slip by
him. Not one of them escaped the horrid old man's watchful eye:

"It's not your turn!" he said to one. "You're to be born to-morrow!...
Nor yours either, you've got ten years to wait.... A thirteenth
shepherd?... There are only twelve wanted; there is no need for
more.... More doctors?... There are too many already; they are
grumbling about it on earth.... And where are the engineers?... They
want an honest man; only one, as a wonderful being."

Thereupon, a poor Child, who had hung back, until then, came forward
timidly, sucking his thumb. He looked pale and sad and walked with
tottering footsteps; he was so wretched that even Time felt a moment's
pity:

"It's you!" he exclaimed. "You seem a very poor specimen!"

[Illustration: And, in a moment, the Blue Children were crowding round
the tall old man]

And, lifting his eyes to the sky, with a look of discouragement, he
added:

"You won't live long!"

And the movement went on. Each Child, when denied, retur