CHAPTER 19 – FOX

Then the fox came.

“Good morning,” said the fox.

“Good morning,” the little prince said politely. “Who are you? You’re very pretty.”

“I’m a fox,” said the fox.

“Play with me,” the little prince said, “I’m very sad.”

“I can’t play with you. I’m wild,” the fox said.

“Ah! I’m sorry,” said the little prince. But after some thought, he added, “What does wild mean?”

“You’re not from here,” said the fox. “What are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for people,” said the little prince. “What does wild mean?”

“People,” said the fox, “have guns and they hunt. It’s a problem for me. They also have chickens. That’s the only interesting thing about them. Are you looking for chickens?”

“No,” said the little prince. “I’m looking for friends. What does wild mean?”

“It means that I’m not connected to you and you’re not connected to me.”

“You’re not connected to me?”

“That’s correct,” the fox said. “For me you’re only a little boy, like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I don’t need you. And you don’t need me. For you I’m only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if I’m not wild for you, we will need each other. You will be the only boy in the world for me. I will be the only fox in the world for you.”

“I’m beginning to understand,” the little prince said. “There’s a flower. I think that she isn’t wild for me.”

“It’s possible,” said the fox. “On Earth we can see many different things.”

“Oh, my flower is not on Earth,” the little prince said.

The fox was very interested. “On another planet?”

“Yes.”

“Are there hunters on that planet?”

“No.”

“That’s interesting. And chickens?”

“No.”

“Nothing is perfect,” said the fox. But he came back to his idea. “My life is always the same. I hunt chickens. Men hunt me. All the chickens are similar, and all the men are similar. So, I’m a little bored.

But if I’m not wild for you, my life will be happier. I will know the sound of your steps which will be different from all the other steps. The other steps will send me back underground. Your steps will be like music to me. And then, look! Do you see the corn fields over there? I don’t eat bread. For me corn is not useful. The corn fields say nothing to me. And that’s sad.