"Tyltyl!... Tyltyl!... How are you, Tyltyl, how are you?..."
A little Blue Child came running up from the back of the hall, pushing his way through the crowd. He was fair and slim and bright-eyed and had a great look of Mytyl.
"It's not surprising," said the Blue Child, "considering that I shall be your brother!"
This time, the Live Children were absolutely amazed. What an extraordinary meeting! They must certainly tell Mummy as soon as they got back! How astonished they would be at home!
While they were making these reflections, the Child went on to explain:
"I am coming to you next year, on Palm Sunday," he said.
And he put a thousand questions to his big brother: was it comfortable at home? Was the food good? Was Daddy very severe? And Mummy?
"Oh, Mummy is so kind!" said the little ones.
And they asked him questions in their turn: what was he going to do on earth? What was he bringing?
"I am bringing three illnesses," said the little brother. "Scarlatina, whooping-cough and measles...."
He shook his head, with evident disappointment, while the other continued:
"It will hardly be worth while coming!" said Tyltyl, feeling rather vexed.
"We can't pick and choose!" said the little brother, pettishly.
They would perhaps have quarrelled, without waiting till they were on earth, if they had not suddenly been parted by a swarm of Blue Children who were hurrying to meet somebody. At the same time, there was a great noise, as if thousands of invisible doors were being opened at the end of the galleries.
"It's Time," said one of the Blue Children. "He's going to open the doors."
And the excitement increased on every side. The Children left their machines and their labours; those who were asleep woke up; and every eye was eagerly and anxiously turned to the great opal doors at the back, while every mouth repeated the same name. The word, "Time! Time!" was heard all around; and the great mysterious noise kept on. Tyltyl was dying to know what it meant. At last, he caught a little Child by the skirt of his dress and asked him.
"Let me be," said the Child, very uneasily. "I'm in a hurry: it may be my turn to-day.... It is the Dawn rising. This is the hour when the Children who are to be born to-day go down to earth.... You shall see.... Time is drawing the bolts...."