which the farmer
wore at his belt. The field had been ploughed, and there was a sweet
smell of fresh earth in the air; the sky was a deep, deep blue, but the
air was cool and the few leaves on the trees were brown and dry, and
looked as if they had been left over from last year. "Ah!" said the
learned grain. "It was just such a day as this when my grandfather, or my
father, or somebody else related to me, was sown. I think I remember that
it was called Early Spring."

"As for me," said the proud grain, fiercely, "I should like to see the
man who would dare to sow me!"

At that very moment, the farmer put his big, brown hand into the bag and
threw her, as she thought, at least half a mile from them.

He had not thrown her so far as that, however, and she landed safely in
the shadow of a clod of rich earth, which the sun had warmed through and
through. She was quite out of breath and very dizzy at first, but in a
few seconds she began to feel better and could not help looking around,
in spite of her anger, to see if there was anyone near to talk to. But
she saw no one, and so began to scold as usual.

"They not only sow me," she called out, "but they throw me all by
myself, where I can have no company at all. It is disgraceful."

Then she heard a voice from the other side of the clod. It was the
learned grain, who had fallen there when the farmer threw her out of
his pouch.

"Don't be angry," it said, "I am here. We are all right so far. Perhaps,
when they cover us with the earth, we shall be even nearer to each other
than we are now."

"Do you mean to say they will cover us with the earth?" asked the
proud grain.

"Yes," was the answer. "And there we shall lie in the dark, and the rain
will moisten us, and the sun will warm us, until we grow larger and
larger, and at last burst open!"

"Speak for yourself," said the proud grain; "I shall do no such thing!"

But it all happened just as the learned grain had said, which showed what
a wise grain it was, and how much it had found out just by thinking hard
and remembering all it could.

Before the day was over, they were covered snugly up with the soft,
fragrant, brown earth, and there they lay day after day.

One morning, when the proud grain wakened, it found itself wet through
and through with rain which had fallen in the night, and the next day
the sun shone down and warmed it so that it really began to be afraid
that it would be obliged to grow too large