," cried Puck. "I'd have told you anyhow. But please let
me go now."

Maya released him. She had stopped caring. Her respect for the
fly and any confidence she might have had in him were gone. Of
what value could the experiences of so low, so vulgar a creature
be to serious-minded people? She would have to find out about
human beings for herself.

The lesson, however, had not been wasted. Puck was much more
endurable now. Scolding and growling he set himself to rights.
He smoothed down his feelers and wings and the minute hairs on
his black body--which were fearfully rumpled; for the girl-bee
had laid on good and hard--and concluded the operation by
running his proboscis in and out several times--something new
to Maya.

"Out of joint, completely out of joint!" he muttered in a pained
tone. "Comes of your excited way of doing things. Look. See for
yourself. The sucking-disk at the end of my proboscis looks like
a twisted pewter plate."

"Have you a sucking-disk?" asked Maya.

"Goodness gracious, of course!-- Now tell me. What do you want
to know about human beings?-- Never mind about my proboscis
being out of joint. It'll be all right.-- I think I had best
tell you a few things from my own life. You see, I grew up among
human beings, so you'll hear just what you want to know."

"You grew up among human beings?"

"Of course. It was in the corner of their room that my mother
laid the egg from which I came. I made my first attempts to walk
on their window-shades, and I tested the strength of my wings by
flying from Schiller to Goethe."

"What are Schiller and Goethe?"

"Statues," explained Puck, very superior, "statues of two men
who seem to have distinguished themselves. They stand under the
mirror, one on the right hand and one on the left hand, and
nobody pays any attention to them."

"What's a mirror? And why do the statues stand under the
mirror?"

"A mirror is good for seeing your belly when you crawl on it.
It's very amusing. When human beings go up to a mirror, they
either put their hands up to their hair, or pull at their
beards. When they are alone, they smile into the mirror, but if
somebody else is in the room they look very serious. What the
purpose of it is, I could never make out. Seems to be some
useless game of theirs. I myself, when I was still a child,
suffered a good deal from the mirror. I'd fly into it and of
course be thrown back violently."

Maya plied Puck with more questions abo