"Now you must work. You must return to your engine. I will be waiting for you here. Come back tomorrow evening..."But I was not reassured. I remembered the fox. One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets himself be tamed...
I had been so proud of my baobabs!
One question, however, occurred to me:"Then it was not by chance that on the morning when I first met you― a week ago― you were strolling along like that, all alone, a thousand miles from any inhabited region You were on the your back to the place where you landed"The little prince flushed again.
But he did not answer me. He said to me, instead:"You know― my descent to the earth... Tomorrow will be its anniversary."Then, after a silence, he went on:"I came down very near here."And he flushed.
"Leave it to me," I said. "It is too heavy for you."I hoisted the bucket slowly to the edge of the well and set it there― happy, tired as I was, over my achievement. The song of the pulley was still in my ears, and I could see the sunlight shimmer in the still trembling water.
I raised the bucket to his lips. He drank, his eyes closed. It was as sweet as some special festival treat. This water was indeed a different thing from ordinary nourishment. Its sweetness was born of the walk under the stars, the song of the pulley, the effort of my arms. It was good for the heart, like a present. When I was a little boy, the lights of the Christmas tree, the music of the Midnight Mass, the tenderness of smiling faces, used to make up, so, the radiance of the gifts I received.