was useless, it was
a foolishness and a vanity; he would despise it and say cutting words.
But to me it was not despicable; I said, "Oh, you fire, I love you, you
dainty pink creature, for you are BEAUTIFUL--and that is enough!" and
was going to gather it to my breast. But refrained. Then I made another
maxim out of my head, though it was so nearly like the first one that
I was afraid it was only a plagiarism: "THE BURNT EXPERIMENT SHUNS THE
FIRE."
I wrought again; and when I had made a good deal of fire-dust I emptied
it into a handful of dry brown grass, intending to carry it home and
keep it always and play with it; but the wind struck it and it sprayed
up and spat out at me fiercely, and I dropped it and ran. When I looked
back the blue spirit was towering up and stretching and rolling away
like a cloud, and instantly I thought of the name of it--SMOKE!--though,
upon my word, I had never heard of smoke before.
Soon brilliant yellow and red flares shot up through the smoke, and I
named them in an instant--FLAMES--and I was right, too, though these
were the very first flames that had ever been in the world. They climbed
the trees, then flashed splendidly in and out of the vast and increasing
volume of tumbling smoke, and I had to clap my hands and laugh and
dance in my rapture, it was so new and strange and so wonderful and so
beautiful!
He came running, and stopped and gazed, and said not a word for many
minutes. Then he asked what it was. Ah, it was too bad that he should
ask such a direct question. I had to answer it, of course, and I did. I
said it was fire. If it annoyed him that I should know and he must ask;
that was not my fault; I had no desire to annoy him. After a pause he
asked:
"How did it come?"
Another direct question, and it also had to have a direct answer.
"I made it."
The fire was traveling farther and farther off. He went to the edge of
the burned place and stood looking down, and said:
"What are these?"
"Fire-coals."
He picked up one to examine it, but changed his mind and put it down
again. Then he went away. NOTHING interests him.
But I was interested. There were ashes, gray and soft and delicate
and pretty--I knew what they were at once. And the embers; I knew the
embers, too. I found my apples, and raked them out, and was glad; for
I am very young and my appetite is active. But I was disappointed; they
were all burst open and spoiled. Spoiled apparently; but it was n
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