There was so much that he wanted to know! Down in the dark furnace room he had been forever wondering about the fires that he kindled, about the light that he did not have, about everything. He threw out his arms.
“I want to know about the whole world!” he cried.
The princess considered.
“Perhaps they haven’t teached me everything yet,” she said. “What do you want to know about the world?”
Hazen looked out the window and across the palace garden, lying all golden-green in the slow opening light, with fountains and flowers and parks and goldfish everywhere.
“What makes it get day?” he asked. For since he had been a furnace boy, Hazen had been taught nothing at all.
“Why, the sun comes,” answered the princess.
“Is it the same sun every day?” Hazen asked.
“I don’t think so,” said the princess. “No—sometimes it is a red sun. Sometimes it is a hot sun. Sometimes it is big, big, when it goes down. Oh, no. I am quite sure a different sun comes up every day.”
“Where do they get ’em all?” Hazen asked wonderingly.