The Smallest Blows the Candle Out
On a hill of buttercups there stood a castle, and in the castle kitchen there worked a girl called Kit.
Kit was the smallest person in the castle. And because she was the smallest, she had the most important job of all.
Every night, when the first star came out, the whole castle gathered in the great hall. The cook came, and the guards came, and the King came in his slippers. The Queen came last. She was so tall that she had to duck under the door, and she always yawned first.
“Haaaa-oom,” went the Queen. Then everybody yawned after her.
In the middle of the hall stood the bedtime candle. It stood in the King’s old riding boot. On the very first night, long ago, nobody could find a candlestick, and the candle had lived in the boot ever since.
Then everybody said the rule together.
“The smallest blows the candle out.”
And Kit stepped up to the boot, puffed out her cheeks, big and round, and blew. Fffooo!
Out went the flame. Up went a curl of smoke, and the smoke turned and twisted until it made a shape. One night it made a sailing boat, and everybody in the castle dreamed about the sea. One night it made a pig in a hat, and everybody dreamed about pigs in hats. Even the Queen.
Then the whole castle went to bed at once.
Kit was very proud of her job, and she practised every day on the soup. The cook would fill a bowl so hot that nobody could touch it. Kit would puff out her cheeks and blow, and blow, and blow, until the soup was just right to eat. The guards said Kit’s soup was the best in the land.
It was the best job in the castle, and Kit wanted to do it for ever and ever.
Then Baby Pip was born.
Pip was a brand-new prince, small and pink and round. The whole castle loved him at once, and Kit loved him too. She made funny faces over his cradle. Pip could not talk yet. He could not even crawl. The only thing he could do was blow raspberries.
Pthbbbt!
One morning Kit looked at Pip’s feet, and then at her own. Hers were bigger. She looked at Pip’s hands, and then at her own. Hers were bigger too.
“Pip is the smallest now,” said Kit.
So Pip would blow the candle out. Not Kit.
That afternoon she blew on the soup so hard that it slopped right over the side of the bowl.
On Pip’s first night, the whole castle gathered round the boot. The Queen ducked under the door with Pip in her arms.
“Haaaa-oom,” went the Queen.
Kit stood at the very back, behind the tallest guard, with her arms folded.
“The smallest blows the candle out,” said everybody. Kit said it too, but only into her apron.
The Queen bent down and held Pip near the flame. Pip looked at it. He took a big breath.
Pthbbbt!
Out came a raspberry and quite a lot of spit. The flame did not even flicker.
Pip took another breath. His nose went wrinkly.
“Ah, ah, ah-CHOO!”
The flame wobbled this way. It wobbled that way. Then it stood up straight again.
Pip looked round at all the faces looking at him, and he giggled. The flame did nothing at all.
Then Pip’s bottom lip began to wobble.
She knew how a wobbly lip felt. She unfolded her arms. She was not cross any more.
“Excuse me,” said Kit, and she squeezed past the tallest guard. “Excuse me,” she said, and she squeezed past the cook.
“Please may I hold him?” said Kit.
The Queen bent down, which took quite a long time, and put Pip in Kit’s arms.
“Like this,” said Kit.
She puffed out her cheeks, big and round, the way she did for the soup. Pip stared at her. Then he puffed out his cheeks too, little and round.
“One, two, three,” said Kit.
And they blew together. Fffooo!
Out went the flame. Up went the smoke, and this time it made two curls. One curl turned into a duck. The other curl turned into a cake with a cherry on top.
“A duck for Pip,” said the Queen, “and a cake for Kit.”
Kit looked up at her. “Is it allowed?” she said. “Two of us?”
“Do you know why we have the rule?” said the Queen. “It is so the littlest one always has something important to do at bedtime. And now we have two littlest ones.”
Then she yawned, of course, before anybody else. “Haaaa-oom.” And everybody yawned after her.
Pip yawned a tiny yawn.
“Here he is,” said Kit, and she gave him back to the Queen.
“Thank you, Kit,” said the Queen. She tucked Pip under her chin, and he was dreaming of his duck already. Then she bent down, all the long way, and kissed the top of Kit’s head.
The hall went soft and dim, and the moon came in at the windows. The whole castle went to bed at once. The King shuffled off in his slippers. The cook went to bed and dreamed about a duck eating cake.
Kit went to her little bed by the warm kitchen fire. She was asleep before she could count to three, and she dreamed about cake.
Every night after that, the whole castle gathered round the King’s old boot. The Queen yawned first. Then everybody said the rule the new way.
“The smallest two blow the candle out.”
Pip learned to blow properly in the end. But he always did a raspberry first, just to warm up. Then Kit and Pip puffed out their cheeks, one pair big and one pair little, and blew it out together.
And the moon shone on the hill of buttercups, and the whole castle went to sleep at once, from the tallest Queen all the way down to the smallest two.