nce and
Princess had not just been married."

"Well, really," exclaimed a small Fire-balloon, "why not? It is a most
joyful occasion, and when I soar up into the air I intend to tell the
stars all about it. You will see them twinkle when I talk to them about
the pretty bride."

"Ah! what a trivial view of life!" said the Rocket; "but it is only what
I expected. There is nothing in you; you are hollow and empty. Why,
perhaps the Prince and Princess may go to live in a country where there
is a deep river, and perhaps they may have one only son, a little
fair-haired boy with violet eyes like the Prince himself; and perhaps
some day he may go out to walk with his nurse; and perhaps the nurse may
go to sleep under a great elder-tree; and perhaps the little boy may
fall into the deep river and be drowned. What a terrible misfortune!
Poor people, to lose their only son! It is really too dreadful! I shall
never get over it."

"But they have not lost their only son," said the Roman Candle;
"no misfortune has happened to them at all."

"I never said that they had," replied the Rocket; "I said that they
might. If they had lost their only son there would be no use in saying
anything more about the matter. I hate people who cry over spilt milk.
But when I think that they might lose their only son, I certainly am
much affected."

"You certainly are!" cried the Bengal Light. "In fact, you are the most
affected person I ever met."

"You are the rudest person I ever met," said the Rocket, "and you cannot
understand my friendship for the Prince."

"Why, you don't even know him," growled the Roman Candle.

"I never said I knew him," answered the Rocket. "I dare say that if I
knew him I should not be his friend at all. It is a very dangerous thing
to know one's friends."

"You had really better keep yourself dry," said the Fire-balloon. "That
is the important thing."

"Very important for you, I have no doubt," answered the Rocket, "but I
shall weep if I choose;" and he actually burst into real tears, which
flowed down his stick like rain-drops, and nearly drowned two little
beetles, who were just thinking of setting up house together, and were
looking for a nice dry spot to live in.

"He must have a truly romantic nature," said the Catherine Wheel, "for
he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about;" and she heaved a
deep sigh and thought about the deal box.

But the Roman Candle and the Bengal Light were quite indign