Анатоль Франс
Our Children: Scenes from the Country and the Town
Crumb by crumb the slice of bread all went to the little singers, and Fanny went into her grandmother’s house again quite pleased.
III
At evening the grandmother took the basket in which Fanny had brought the cake to her, and filling it with plums and raisins put the handle over her arm, and said:
“Now, Fanny, run straight home, and don’t stop to amuse yourself and play with any of the village scamps. Be a good girl always. Good-bye.”
She kissed her, but Fanny stood a while very thoughtful at the threshold.
“Grandmother,” said she.
“Yes, Fanny dear.”
“I should like so much to know,” said Fanny, “if there were any fine princes among the birds that ate my bread.”
“No,” said grandmother; “nowadays there are no more fairies, and the birds are all creatures.”
“Good-bye, Grandmother.”
“Good-bye, Fanny.”
AS SHE WENT ON HER WAY WITH EVEN STEPS AND LOOKING VERY WISE AND GOOD SHE HEARD A PRETTY SOUND OF BIRDS CRYING BEHIND HER, AND TURNING HER HEAD SHE RECOGNIZED THE LITTLE BEGGARS THAT SHE HAD FED WHEN THEY WERE HUNGRY. THEY HAD BEEN FOLLOWING HER. “GOOD NIGHT, LITTLE FRIENDS,” SHE CALLED TO THEM. “GOOD NIGHT. IT’S TIME TO GO TO BED NOW. GOOD NIGHT.”
Printed in France
And Fanny went away across the fields toward home. She could see the chimney of her house smoking in the distance against the red sunset sky.
On the way she met Antony, the gardener’s little boy, who said to her: “Are you coming to play with me?”
“No,” replied Fanny, “I’m not coming to play with you because my grandmother told me not to stop. But I’ll give you an apple, because I like you very much.”
Antony took the apple and kissed Fanny nicely.
They loved each other dearly, these two. He would say: “She’s my little wife.” And she would agree: “He’s my little man.”
As she went on her way with even steps and looking very wise and good she heard a pretty sound of birds crying behind her, and turning her head she recognized the little beggars that she had fed when they were hungry. They had been following her.
“Goodnight, little friends,” she called to them. “Good night. It’s time to go to bed now. Good night!”
And the little winged singers replied in cries that meant, in bird language: “God keep you safe.”
Thus Fanny came back home to her mother, followed by bird music in the air.
IV
Fanny went to bed before candle time in a little bed that a cabinet-maker of the village had made a long time ago, with a frame of walnut and graceful banisters. Long ago the good man had gone to sleep in the shadow of the church, under a black cross, in a bed with a coverlet of grass, for Fanny’s bed had been her grandfather’s when he was a little baby, and the little girl slept now in the same place as her ancestor. She slept. A cotton curtain with a pattern of roses protected her slumbers. She slept and dreamed. She saw the blue bird flying toward the castle of his love. He looked as beautiful as a star, but she did not expect for a moment to see him perch on her shoulder. She knew she was not a princess, and couldn’t expect visits from a prince changed into a bird the color of deep sky. However, she told herself that all birds are not princes, that the birds in the village are villagers and among them may well enough have been some country boy changed into a sparrow by a wicked fairy, and having a love for Fanny in his heart beneath his gray feathers. Such an one, if she should find him, she would give not only bread, but cakes and kisses too. She would like to see him. And now she does see him! He comes and perches on her shoulder. He’s just a little cock sparrow, not fine or rare, but very alert and lively. To tell the truth his appearance is a little tousled: one tail feather is missing, lost in a fight, that is unless he has encountered some bad fairy in the village. Fanny suspects him of having a bad head; but she is a girl, and it does not worry her that her cock sparrow has a bad head if his heart is good. She pets him and calls him pretty names. All of a sudden he grows bigger and longer: his wings change into two arms. He turns into a boy, and Fanny recognizes Antony the gardener’s little boy, who says to her: “Let’s come and play together.”
SHE JUMPS OUT OF BED IN HER NIGHTGOWN, OPENS THE WINDOW, AND THERE IN THE GARDEN, AMONG THE ROSES AND GERANIUMS AND MORNING GLORIES, ARE THE LITTLE BIRD BEGGARS, THE LITTLE MUSICIANS OF LAST NIGHT, SITTING IN A ROW ON THE GARDEN FENCE AND GIVING HER A MORNING SONG TO PAY FOR THEIR CRUMBS OF BREAD.
Printed in France
She claps her hands with joy and starts to go – then suddenly wakes up. She rubs her eyes. No sparrow, no Antony! She is alone in the little room. The dawn, shining through the little flowered curtain, spreads its innocent light on the bed. She hears the birds singing in the garden. She jumps out of bed in her nightgown, opens the window, and there in the garden, among the roses and geraniums and morning glories, are the little bird beggars, the little musicians of last night, sitting in a row on the fence rail and giving her a morning song to pay for their crumbs of bread.
