The fifth planet was very strange. It was the smallest of all. There was just enough room to accommodate a street lamp and a lamplighter. The little prince could not imagine what use there might be, somewhere in the heavens, on a planet with neither houses nor people, for a street lamp and a lamplighter. But he said to himself:

This man may well be absurd. Nevertheless, he's not as absurd as the king, or the conceited man, or the businessman, or the drinker. At least his work has some meaning. When he lights up his street lamp, it's as though he were bringing a new star to life, or a flower. When he puts out his street lamp, he is putting the flower or the star to sleep. It is a beautiful occupation. And, since it is beautiful, it is truly useful.'

When he touched down on this planet he respectfully greeted the lamplighter:

Good clay. Why have you just extinguished your street lamp?'

Those are the orders.' replied the lamplighter. 'Good morning.'

'What are orders?'

'Orders are to extinguish my lamp. Good evening.'

And he lit it again.

'But why have you just lit up again?'

'Those are the orders, replied the lamplighter.

'I don't understand,' said the little prince.

'There's nothing to understand.' said the lamplighter. 'Orders are orders. Good morning.'

And he extinguished his street lamp.

Then he mopped his forehead with a red-check handkerchief.

'It's a terrible way to earn a living. In the old days it was reasonable. I extinguished in the morning and lit up in the evening. I had the rest of the day for relaxing, and the rest of the night for sleeping.'

'And since that time the orders have changed?'

'The orders have not changed.' said the lamplighter. 'That is the tragedy of it! Year by year the planet has been revolving more and more rapidly, but the orders have not changed!'

'So?'

'So now it completes one revolution every minute, and I no longer have a moment's rest. I light up and extinguish once every min ute!'

'How very funny! The days on your planet last just one minute!'

'It's not in the least funny.' said the lamplighter. 'A month has already gone by since we started talking.'

'A month?'

'Yes. Thirty minutes. Thirty days! Good evening.'

And he relit his lamp.

As he watched, the little prince felt drawn to this lamplighter who was so faithful to orders. He remembered the sunsets he used himself to seek out, in earlier days, simply by pulling up his chair. He wanted to help this new friend.

'You know, I can think of a way you could rest whenever you wanted to.'

'I always want to rest,' said the lamplighter.

(For it is possible for someone to be faithful and lazy at the same time.)

The little prince continued:

'Your planet is so small that three strides will take you all the way around it. You have only to walk slowly enough, and you can remain in daylight all the time. When you want to rest, you simply walk — and the day will last as long as you like.'

'That does not get me very far,' said the lamplighter. 'What I like doing in life is sleeping.'

'That is bad luck,' said the little prince.

'It is bad luck.' said the lamplighter. 'Good morning.'

And he extinguished his lamp.

'This fellow,' said the little prince to himself, as he continued on his travels, 'would be laughed at by all the others: by the king, by the conceited man, by the drinker, by the businessman. However, he is the only one who does not seem to me ridiculous. Perhaps that is because he is preoccupied with something other than himself.'

He breathed a sigh of regret and went on thinking:

'He is the only one I could have made my friend. But his planet is altogether too small. There's no room for two of us.'

What the little prince did not like to admit was that he was sorry to leave this planet most of all because it was blessed with one-thousand-four-hundred-and-forty sunsets every twenty-four hours!