me.  Well, we set off.  The last apples were rocking to-and-fro on swaying branches.  My happy voice, a joyful shout from her now and then, the vain crowing of the cocks, the creaking of wagons on the road—­all these sounds floated on a bluish, cottony, suffocating fog.  She took me far, and many marvelous things happened on our way.  We met terrible giant dogs.  My proud bearing seemed to exasperate them, but I kept them back with a single look (besides, a closed iron gate rendered them powerless).  I chased a rabbit into the thicket, though She cried loudly:  “I forbid you to touch the little animal!” ...  My mother certainly gave me swift legs but they’re short, and the white end of the little beast kept far ahead.  A bush covered with red berries detained us a very long time.  She sees no objection to eating strange things and I can truthfully say that I always taste everything She offers me, for I’ve great faith in her.  But this morning—­“Eat, Toby, nice berries.  Eat! here are some rose-hips.  Oh stupid! how can you not dote upon their delicious flavor?  I assure you these are comfits of Mother Nature’s making.”  In deference to her, I chewed a reddish ball; there were some rough hairs on it—­put there doubtless by her teasing hand—­and what was bound to happen, did happen ...  Khaha!  My throat rejected the nasty “rosehip.” ...

But listen, Fire, what I saw after that, passes my understanding.  It was in a wood where stiff leaves rustled.  Had She carried you under her cloak, or do gods like you come at her bidding?  I saw her hands pile up the wood, arrange flat stones in some mysterious fashion, and then, Fire, I saw the sparks flash and your joyous soul palpitate, grow big, soar naked and rose-colored, veil itself in smoke, snap noisily (for yours is a belligerent soul), agonize—­and disappear....  The world is full of incomprehensible things....  Last of all, on our way back, I discovered near the park gate—­saw it before She did—­one of those invincible beasts called hedge-hogs, the mere sight of which brings us dogs to bay.  What madness to realize that an animal is hiding under that pin-cushion and laughing at me, and that I can do nothing, nothing!  I implored her—­She can do nearly everything—­to pluck him for me.  She began by turning him over with a little stick, as if he were a horse chestnut.  “Astonishing,” said She, “I can’t find the top of him!” Then She took one of his spines between two fingers and carried him home that way—­I dancing behind her—­and put him in her work basket.  After a while the horrid beast unrolled himself, stuck out a pig-like nose, opened two shiny rat’s eyes and raised himself, holding fast by his little paws, which were exactly like a mole’s.  “How pretty he is,” She cried, “a real little black pig.”  I stood near the table groaning with covetousness, but She didn’t pluck him for me, not then, or ever, and perhaps the cook ate him....  This cat’s a dissembler.  Maybe he ...  But away with care!  I’m too excitable!  I mustn’t let myself think of these things.  Life is beautiful, O Fire, since you illumine it ...  I’m going to sleep ...  Watch over my unconscious body ...  I’m going ... to sleep....