my narrow
house."

"Patience," replied another voice, a little quieter, but much like
the other; "I have lived longer than thou, who art only a few
seconds old. I have learned that one minute does not resemble
another; that cold is near to heat, that light is near to darkness,
and that sweet follows bitter. It is now two hundred and twenty-one
thousand, seven hundred and sixty-one minutes, and twenty-four
seconds, since I broke my shell. This sun, which you now see so pale
in the dusk, glowed then with more fervor, and sent every where more
rays and sparkles than I can count seconds in my long life. I was
all wet as you are now--poor, helpless thing; but I turned myself to
some of those brilliant rays, and my wings directly became strong,
as you now see them, embossed and painted with seven different,
changing colors, reflections of the rays of the sun. See! there is
one of these rays now; come forth; spread thy moist wing, already
shrunk and chill; thou shalt take thy part in the blessings which
come from on high."

Piccolissima, all attention and full of curiosity, looked around
her, and saw coming out from the window frame two flies, who
appeared to be talking together. The wings of one of them remained
stuck together on its back, and it made a great effort to extend
them. Delighted at the discovery of companions in her solitude,
companions, too, whose language she could understand, Piccolissima
was eager to make their acquaintance; so she offered them her stick
of candy. One of the flies--it was the elder--having fixed upon the
little prodigy one of the thousand faces of his brown, sparkling
eyes, surrounded with golden eyelashes, he then placed, one by one,
his little black feet upon the stick of sugar candy, stretched forth
his trunk, and began to suck with eagerness.

Piccolissima had now time enough to contemplate a being whose organs
she thought were like her own in their weakness. She found pleasure
in examining the extraordinary form of its almost cylindrical body,
divided into three parts, and a head wider than it was long, an
irregular globe surmounted by two horns, or antennae, as they are
called. The eyes most excited her curiosity. She attempted to count
their numerous little faces, so regular, so finely cut into
hexagons, more polished, more brilliant than diamonds. When
Piccolissima had counted one hundred, she drew from a very small
box, which was a family treasure, some minikin pins, and stuck o