The Dung Beetle (3)

The Dung Beetle (3)

  " Idea ! " cried the dung beetle.
  " I have a very good idea of how I deserve to be treated and how  I am treated. Now I have been insulted enough ; there is nothing left for me to do but go out into the wide world. "

  " Good riddance, " said the smith.

  " Brute ! " returned the dung beetle, but the blacksmith, who had already returned to his work, did not hear him.

  The dung beetle flew from the stable to the flower garden ; it was a lovely place that smelled of roses and lavender.

  " Isn't it beautiful here ? " a ladybird called to him.

  She had just come for a visit and was busy folding her fragile wings beneath her black-spotted armour.
  " The flowers smell so sweet that I think I shall stay here forever. "

  The dung beetle sniffed.
  " I am used to something better. Why, there isn't even a decent pile of dung here. "

  The dung beetle sat down to rest in the shadow of a tiger lily.

  Climbing up the flower's stem was a caterpillar.
  " The world is beautiful, " the caterpillar said.
  " The sun is very warm and I am getting quite sleepy. When I fall asleep ー or die as some call it ー I am sure that I shall wake a butterfly. "

  " Butterfly, indeed ! Don't give yourself airs. I come from the emperor's stable, and no one there ー not even the emperor's horse ー has any notions like that. Those who can fly, fly .... And those who can crawl, crawl ! "

And then the dung beetle flew away. 

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