The Little Prince

 

17 

"Before they grow so big, the baobabs start out by being little."   

"That is strictly correct," I said. "But why do you want the sheep to eat the little 

baobabs?"   

He answered me at once, "Oh, come, come!", as if he were speaking of 

something that was self-evident. And I was obliged to make a great mental 

effort to solve this problem, without any assistance.   

Indeed, as I learned, there were on the planet where the little prince lived-- as 

on all planets-- good plants and bad plants. In consequence, there were good 

seeds from good plants, and bad seeds from bad plants. But seeds are 

invisible. They sleep deep in the heart of the earth's darkness, until some one 

among them is seized with the desire to awaken. Then this little seed will 

stretch itself and begin-- timidly at first-- to push a charming little sprig 

inoffensively upward toward the sun. If it is only a sprout of radish or the sprig 

of a rose-bush, one would let it grow wherever it might wish. But when it is a 

bad plant, one must destroy it as soon as possible, the very first instant that 

one recognizes it.   

Now there were some terrible seeds on the planet that was the home of the 

little prince; and these were the seeds of the baobab. The soil of that planet 

was infested with them. A baobab is something you will never, never be able 

to get rid of if you attend to it too late. It spreads over the entire planet. It 

bores clear through it with its roots. And if the planet is too small, and the 

baobabs are too many, they split it in pieces...   

 

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18 

"It is a question of discipline," the little prince said to me later on. "When 

you've finished your own toilet in the morning, then it is time to attend to the 

toilet of your planet, just so, with the greatest care. You must see to it that you 

pull up regularly all the baobabs, at the very first moment when they can be 

distinguished from the rosebushes which they resemble so closely in their 

earliest youth. It is very tedious work," the little prince added, "but very easy."   

And one day he said to me: "You ought to make a beautiful drawing, so that 

the children where you live can see exactly how all this is. That would be very 

useful to them if they were to travel some day. Sometimes," he added, "there 

is no harm in putting off a piece of work until another day. But when it is a 

matter of baobabs, that always means a catastrophe. I knew a planet that 

was inhabited by a lazy man. He neglected three little bushes..."   

 

So, as the little prince described it to me, I have made a drawing of that planet. 

I do not much like to take the tone of a moralist. But the danger of the 

baobabs is so little understood, and such considerable risks would be run by 

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19 

anyone who might get lost on an asteroid, that for once I am breaking through 

my reserve. "Children," I say plainly, "watch out for the baobabs!"   

My friends, like myself, have been skirting this danger for a long time, without 

ever knowing it; and so it is for them that I have worked so hard over this 

drawing. The lesson which I pass on by this means is worth all the trouble it 

has cost me.   

Perhaps you will ask me, "Why are there no other drawing in this book as 

magnificent and impressive as this drawing of the baobabs?"   

The reply is simple. I have tried. But with the others I have not been 

successful. When I made the drawing of the baobabs I was carried beyond 

myself by the inspiring force of urgent necessity. 

 

 

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20 

 Chapter 6   

  the little prince and the narrator talk about sunsets 

Oh, little prince! Bit by bit I came to understand the secrets of your sad little 

life... For a long time you had found your only entertainment in the quiet 

pleasure of looking at the sunset. I learned that new detail on the morning of 

the fourth day, w hen you said to me:   

"I am very fond of sunsets. Come, let us go look at a sunset now."   

"But we must wait," I said.   

"Wait? For what?"   

"For the sunset. We must wait until it is time."   

At first you seemed to be very much surprised. And then you laughed to 

yourself. You said to me:   

"I am always thinking that I am at home!"   

Just so. Everybody knows that when it is noon in the United States the sun is 

setting over France.   

 

If you could fly to France in one minute, you could go straight into the sunset, 

right from noon. Unfortunately, France is too far away for that. But on your tiny 

planet, my little prince, all you need do is move your chair a few steps. You 

can see the day end and the twilight falling whenever you like...   

"One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!"   

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21 

And a little later you added:   

"You know-- one loves the sunset, when one is so sad..."   

"Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?"   

But the little prince made no reply. 

 

 

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22 

 Chapter 7   

  the narrator learns about the secret of the little 

prince's life 

On the fifth day-- again, as always, it was thanks to the sheep-- the secret of 

the little prince's life was revealed to me. Abruptly, without anything to lead up 

to it, and as if the question had been born of long and silent meditation on his 

problem, he demanded:   

"A sheep-- if it eats little bushes, does it eat flowers, too?"   

"A sheep," I answered, "eats anything it finds in its reach."   

"Even flowers that have thorns?"   

"Yes, even flowers that have thorns."   

"Then the thorns-- what use are they?"   

I did not know. At that moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that 

had got stuck in my engine. I was very much worried, for it was becoming 

clear to me that the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had 

so little drinking-water left that I had to fear for the worst.   

"The thorns-- what use are they?"   

The little prince never let go of a question, once he had asked it. As for me, I 

was upset over that bolt. And I answered with the first thing that came into my 

head:   

"The thorns are of no use at all. Flowers have thorns just for spite!"   

"Oh!"   

There was a moment of complete silence. Then the little prince flashed back 

at me, with a kind of resentfulness:   

"I don't believe you! Flowers are weak creatures. They are na

飗

e. They 

reassure themselves as best they can. They believe that their thorns are 

terrible weapons..."   

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