The second planet was inhabited by a very vain man.
"Ah! A visit from an admirer!" he exclaimed when he caught sight of the
little prince, still at some distance. To vain men, other people are admirers.
"Hello," said the little prince. "That's a funny hat you're wearing."
"It's for answering acclamations," the very vain man replied.
"Unfortunately, no one ever comes this way."
"Is that so?" said the little prince, who did not understand what the vain
man was talking about.
"Clap your hands," directed the man.
The little prince clapped his hands, and the vain man tipped his hat in
modest acknowledgment.
"This is more entertaining than the visit to the king," the little prince said
to himself. And he continued clapping. The very vain man continued tipping his
hat in acknowledgment.
After five minutes of this exercise, the little prince tired of the game's
monotony. "And what would make the hat fall off?" he asked.
But the vain man did not hear him. Vain men never hear anything but
praise.
"Do you really admire me a great deal?" he asked the little prince.
"What does that mean -admire?"
"To admire means to acknowledge that I am the handsomest, the best-
dressed, the richest, and the most intelligent man on the planet."
"But you're the only man on your planet!"
"Do me this favor. Admire me all the same."
"I admire you," said the little prince, with a little shrug of his shoulders,
"but what is there about my admiration that interests you so much?" And the
little prince went on his way.
"Grown-ups are certainly very strange," he said to himself as he continued
on his journey.
