The Cake

I was travelling. The landscape in the midst of which I was seated
was of an irresistible grandeur and sublimity. Something no doubt at
that moment passed from it into my soul. My thoughts fluttered with a
lightness like that of the atmosphere; vulgar passions, such as hate
and profane love, seemed to me now as far away as the clouds that
floated in the gulfs beneath my feet; my soul seemed to me as vast
and pure as the dome of the sky that enveloped me; the remembrance of
earthly things came as faintly to my heart as the thin tinkle of the
bells of unseen herds, browsing far, far away, on the slope of another
mountain. Across the little motionless lake, black with the darkness
of its immense depth, there passed from time to time the shadow of a
cloud, like the shadow of an airy giant's cloak, flying through heaven.
And I remember that this rare and solemn sensation, caused by a vast
and perfectly silent movement, filled me with mingled joy and fear.
In a word, thanks to the enrapturing beauty about me, I felt that I
was at perfect peace with myself and with the universe; I even believe
that, in my complete forgetfulness of all earthly evil, I had come to
think the newspapers are right after all, and man was born good; when,
incorrigible matter renewing its exigencies, I sought to refresh the
fatigue and satisfy the appetite caused by so lengthy a climb. I took
from my pocket a large piece of bread, a leathern cup, and a small
bottle of a certain elixir which the chemists at that time sold to
tourists, to be mixed, on occasion, with liquid snow.

I was quietly cutting my bread when a slight noise made me look up. I
saw in front of me a little ragged urchin, dark and dishevelled, whose
hollow eyes, wild and supplicating, devoured the piece of bread. And I
heard him gasp, in a low, hoarse voice, the word: "Cake!" I could not
help laughing at the appellation with which he thought fit to honour my
nearly white bread, and I cut off a big slice and offered it to him.
Slowly he came up to me, not taking his eyes from the coveted object;
then, snatching it out of my hand, he stepped quickly back, as if he
feared that my offer was not sincere, or that I had already repented of
it.

But at the same instant he was knocked over by another little savage,
who had sprung from I know not where, and who was so precisely like
the first that one might have taken them for twin brothers. They
rolled over on the ground together, struggling for the possession of
the precious booty, neither willing to share it with his brother. The
first, exasperated, clutched the second by the hair; and the second
seized one of the ears of the first between his teeth, and spat out
a little bleeding morsel with a fine oath in dialect. The legitimate
proprietor of the cake tried to hook his little claws into the
usurper's eyes; the latter did his best to throttle his adversary with
one hand, while with the other he endeavoured to slip the prize of war
into his pocket. But, heartened by despair, the loser pulled himself
together, and sent the victor sprawling with a blow of the head in his
stomach. Why describe a hideous fight which indeed lasted longer than
their childish strength seemed to promise? The cake travelled from hand
to hand, and changed from pocket to pocket, at every moment; but, alas,
it changed also in size; and when at length, exhausted, panting and
bleeding, they stopped from the sheer impossibility of going on, there
was no longer any cause of feud; the slice of bread had disappeared,
and lay scattered in crumbs like the grains of sand with which it was
mingled.

The sight had darkened the landscape for me, and dispelled the joyous
calm in which my soul had lain basking; I remained saddened for quite a
long time, saying over and over to myself: "There is then a wonderful
country in which bread is called cake, and is so rare a delicacy that
it is enough in itself to give rise to a war literally fratricidal!"