sudden.

"I don't know."

"I passed through a winter," Puck announced, all pride. "My
experiences date back to the ice age. In a sense they take me
_through_ the ice age. That's why I'm here--I'm here to
recuperate."

"Whatever else you may be, you certainly are spunky," remarked
Maya.

"I should say so," exclaimed Puck, and made an airy leap out
into the sunshine. "The flies are the boldest race in creation.
We never run away unless it is better to run away, and then we
always come back.-- Have you ever sat on a human being?"

"No," said Maya, looking at the fly distrustfully out of the
corner of her eye. She still didn't know quite what to make of
him. "No, I'm not interested in sitting on human beings."

"Ah, dear child, that's because you don't know what it is. If
ever you had seen the fun I have with the man at home, you'd
turn green with envy. I'll tell you.-- In my room there lives an
elderly man who cherishes the color of his nose by means of a
peculiar drink, which he keeps hidden in the corner cupboard.
It has a sweet, intoxicating smell. When he goes to get it he
smiles, and his eyes grow small. He takes a little glass, and he
looks up to the ceiling while he drinks, to see if I am there.
I nod down to him, and he passes his hand over his forehead,
nose and mouth to show me where I am to sit later on. Then he
blinks, and opens his mouth as wide as he can, and pulls down
the shade to keep the afternoon sun from bothering us. Finally
he lays himself down on a something called a sofa, and in a
short while begins to make dull snuffling sounds. I suppose he
thinks the sounds are beautiful. We'll talk about them some
other time. They are man's slumber song. For me they are the
sign that I am to come down. The first thing I do is to take my
portion from the glass, which he left for me. There's something
tremendously stimulating about a drop like that. I understand
human beings. Then I fly over and take my place on the forehead
of the sleeping man. The forehead lies between the nose and the
hair and serves for thinking. You can tell it does from the long
furrows that go from right to left. They must move whenever a
man thinks if something worth while is to result from his
thinking. The forehead also shows if human beings are annoyed.
But then the folds run up and down, and a round cavity forms
over the nose. As soon as I settle on his forehead and begin to
run to and fro in the furrows, the man makes a s