Now when the little dwarf heard that he was to dance a second time
before the Infanta, he was so proud that he ran about the garden,
kissing the white rose in his great delight. She had given him her
beautiful rose; she must love him, he thought. Perhaps she would put
him at her right hand in the throne room and let him be her playmate,
for, although the dwarf had never been in a palace before, he knew a
great many wonderful things.
He could make little cages out of rushes for the grasshoppers to sing
in, and he knew where the wood pigeon built her nest. All the wild
dances he knew: the swift dance in a red mantle with the autumn, the
light dance in blue sandals over the corn, the dance with white snow
wreaths in the winter, and the blossom dance through the orchards in
the spring. The Infanta would love his forest friends, too, the
rabbits that scurried about in the fern, the hedgehogs that could curl
themselves up into prickly balls, and the great wise tortoises that
crawled slowly about, nibbling the leaves and shaking their heads.
Yes, she must certainly come to the forest to play with him!
He would give her his own little bed, and would watch outside the
window until dawn to see that the wolves did not creep too near the
hut. Then, in the morning, he would tap at the shutters and wake her,
and they would go out and play together all day long.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293