Little Philippe of Belgium. Brandeis Madeline
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Little Philippe of Belgium
PEOPLE WHO POSED FOR THE PICTURES
Little Alden Allen looks so much like Philippe that he might have stepped right out of this book. He is also a sweet lovable little boy.
Lionel Belmore – well, just look at his jolly round face! Isn't he Papa Pomme to perfection? Mr. Belmore is a famous English actor, and he posed for Papa Pomme because he loves to do all he can to please boys and girls.
Craufurd Kent is another famous English actor. And although it is hard to believe, from looking at these savage photographs, he also loves boys and girls and he hopes you won't think him like Tom in real life. I can assure you he isn't a bit, except that he whistles a lot and does it beautifully.
Seesil Anne Johnson is a talented little girl, who has worked in many motion pictures. She seems to have Zelie's sad eyes, though of course, she has no reason to be sad, and she isn't. On the contrary, she is very happy, for she has six brothers and sisters to play with.
Suzanne Ransom is another little motion picture girl, and she is just like Philippe's Baby Rose. Don't you think so?
Now we come to the hero of the story, Philippe de Lacy. Philippe's life itself is a story; only I could not tell it all to you, for it would take most of the pages in this book to do so. You may already know that Philippe is one of the best beloved boy-actors in the world. Perhaps you do not know that during the war, Philippe was found in a deserted village in France and adopted by a kind English nurse. She brought him to America, and today there is no happier pair in Hollywood than these two. You see what a fine boy Philippe has turned out to be. And I need not add that Miss de Lacy is a proud mother.
In the book little Philippe's adventure started because of that war picture which he saw with his father. In real life, little Philippe's adventure also started because of the war. But in the book Philippe's experience was not pleasant and he was glad when it was over, while the real Philippe's adventure was pleasant, and we are all glad for him that it is going on and on.
Madeline Brandeis
VIEW OF A CANAL FROM THE ROSARY DOCK, BRUGES
Chapter I
THE BRUSSELS SPROUT
The Brussels Sprout sat among the cabbages, thinking.
The Brussels Sprout was not a little vegetable. He was a little boy. His name was really Philippe. But he was called "Petit Choux de Bruxelles" (pe-tē´ shōō de brük-sel), which means in French, "Little Brussels Sprout." French is spoken in Brussels, and this little boy was born in that city.
But he now lived on a farm a few miles outside of Brussels.
The name "choux" (shōō) or "cabbage," is often used as a pet name. That was the reason why Philippe's parents called him Little Cabbage or Sprout.
Sprout was a very good name for this little boy, because new ideas were always sprouting in his head.
He was always dreaming dreams and wishing wishes. He was never satisfied.
One of his dearest wishes was for a little sister.
Today he sat among the cabbages and thought deeply. He was wondering why one of the cabbages did not open and give him a baby sister.
SPROUT SAT AMONG THE CABBAGES
This may sound queer to you. But Philippe was only five years old, and he believed very earnestly that babies pop out of cabbages.
It is a Belgian folk tale. Philippe had planted these cabbages in his garden for this very purpose.
But no baby sister had popped out of a cabbage yet.
Philippe wanted a baby sister with whom to play. He was the kind of little boy who always longed for something.
He was not really discontented. But he liked new things to happen. And besides he was a bit lonely on that farm, with nobody to play with him.
"Why do you look so sad today, my little cabbage?" asked his mother.
HE WAS NEVER SATISFIED
She had just come out of the house and stood looking down at him.
"I am thinking that never will the baby, Cauliflower, come!" he answered.
Cauliflower was what Philippe had determined to name the sister for whom he longed. Cauliflower in French is "choux fleur" (shōō-flûr), which means "cabbage flower."
"Are you quite certain that none of the cabbages moved today?" asked Mother Yvelle (ē-vĕl'), smiling strangely.
Philippe shook his head and replied, "They are all quite still, Mamma. The little sister is not coming."
Then Mother Yvelle laughed and threw both arms about her little boy.
"Do not say that," she cried.
Philippe looked at her and saw a shiny light in her eyes. Mother Yvelle said softly, "Soon – soon – the great day is coming when my Philippe shall be a little brother!"
A little brother! Philippe could hardly believe the words that Mother Yvelle had spoken. But it was true. Mother Yvelle spoke only the truth.
When Mother Yvelle went into the house, Philippe looked at each cabbage carefully.
MOTHER YVELLE
"Which one will it be?" he wondered excitedly. "Which cabbage will open and give me my little Cauliflower?"
"WHICH ONE WILL IT BE?"
Philippe was happy beyond all dreams. He examined each vegetable. But he could find no sign of the coming baby in any of them.
HE EXAMINED EACH VEGETABLE
He went to the barn. There he spoke to the big dogs, his only companions. He told them the great news.
These dogs did not have much time to play with a little boy. They were usually working. For Belgian dogs draw carts for their owners.
BELGIAN DOGS DRAW CARTS FOR THEIR OWNERS
Philippe's mother had a big vegetable cart. Nearly every morning she loaded it with peas and beans and carrots and onions. She then hitched the dogs and drove them to the market place in Brussels. Here she would sit at a stand and sell her fresh vegetables.
Philippe usually went with her. But sometimes he stayed at home with the gardener.
Philippe's father was a chef. Papa Paul was a very fine chef and could cook some of the best French and Belgian dishes.
He cooked in a fine restaurant in Brussels. He came home late at night, and so Philippe saw little of his father.
But he admired his father very much. He wanted to cook the way his father did some day. That was another great desire in the heart of this little boy. Philippe dreamed of some day becoming a chef like his father.
But he did not look like Papa Paul. Philippe's father was stout and round and smiling. And Philippe was rather slender, and had a serious little face with big dreamy eyes. He was like his mother.
STOUT AND ROUND AND SMILING
Mother Yvelle was thin and pale and sad-looking.
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