"My bird!" cried Tyltyl, slapping his forehead as though they had spoken of something quite out of the way. "My bird!" he repeated. "That's true, I was forgetting about him!... And the cage!... Mytyl, do you see the cage?... It's the one which Bread carried.... Yes, yes, it's the same one, there it is, there it is!"
"It's the Blue Bird we were looking for!
We have been miles and miles and miles
and he was here all the time!"
Tyltyl would not believe his eyes. He took a chair, put it under the cage and climbed on to it gaily, saying:
"Of course, I'll give him to her, of course, I will!..."
Then he stopped, in amazement:
"Why, he's blue!" he said. "It's my dove, just the same, but he has turned blue while I was away!"
And our hero jumped down from the chair and began to skip for joy, crying: