"They are like the Aurora Borealis," said the King, who always
answered questions that were addressed to other people, "only much
more natural. I prefer them to stars myself, as you always know
when they are going to appear, and they are as delightful as my own
flute-playing. You must certainly see them."
So at the end of the King's garden a great stand had been set up,
and as soon as the Royal Pyrotechnist had put everything in its
proper place, the fireworks began to talk to each other.
"The world is certainly very beautiful," cried a little Squib.
"Just look at those yellow tulips. Why! if they were real crackers
they could not be lovelier. I am very glad I have travelled.
Travel improves the mind wonderfully, and does away with all one's
prejudices."
"The King's garden is not the world, you foolish squib," said a big
Roman Candle; "the world is an enormous place, and it would take
you three days to see it thoroughly."
"Any place you love is the world to you," exclaimed a pensive
Catherine Wheel, who had been attached to an old deal box in early
life, and prided herself on her broken heart; "but love is not
fashionable any more, the poets have killed it.
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