THERE was once a darning-needle who thought herself so
fine that she fancied she must be fit for embroidery¹. "Hold me
tight," she would say to the fingers, when they took her up,
"don't let me fall; if you do I shall never be found again, I
am so very fine."

    "That is your opinion, is it?" said the fingers, as they
seized her round the body.

    "See, I am coming with a train," said the darning-needle,
drawing a long thread after her; but there was no knot in the
thread.

    The fingers then placed the point of the needle against
the cook's slipper². There was a crack in the upper leather,
which had to be sewn together.

    "What coarse work!" said the darning-needle, "I shall
never get through. I shall break!- I am breaking!" and sure
enough she broke. "Did I not say so?" said the darning-needle,
"I know I am too fine for such work as that."

    "This needle is quite useless for sewing now," said the
fingers; but they still held it fast, and the cook dropped
some sealing-wax on the needle, and fastened her handkerchief
with it in front.

    "So now I am a breast-pin," said the darning-needle; "I
knew very well I should come to honor some day: merit³ is sure
to rise;" and she laughed, quietly to herself, for of course
no one ever saw a darning-needle laugh. And there she sat as
proudly as if she were in a state coach, and looked all around
her. "May I be allowed to ask if you are made of gold?" she
inquired of her neighbor, a pin; "you have a very pretty
appearance, and a curious head, although you are rather small.
You must take pains to grow, for it is not every one who has
sealing-wax dropped upon him;" and as she spoke⁴, the
darning-needle drew herself up so proudly that she fell out of
the handkerchief right into the sink, which the cook was
cleaning. "Now I am going on a journey," said the needle, as
she floated away with the dirty water, "I do hope I shall not
be lost." But she really was lost in a gutter⁵. "I am too fine
for this world," said the darning-needle, as she lay in the
gutter; "but I know who I am, and that is always some
comfort." So the darning-needle kept up her proud behavior,
and did not lose her good humor. Then there floated over her
all sorts of things,- chips and straws, and pieces of old
newspaper. "See how they sail," said the darning-needle; "they
do not know what is under them. I am here, and here I shall
stick. See, there goes a chip, thinking of nothing in the
world but himself- only a chip. There's a straw going by now;
how he turns and twists about! Don't be thinking too much of
yourself, or you may chance to run against a stone. There
swims a piece of newspaper; what is written upon it has been
forgotten long ago, and yet it gives itself airs. I sit here
patiently and quietly. I know who I am, so I shall not move."

    One day something lying close to the darning-needle
glittered so splendidly that she thought it was a diamond; yet
it was only a piece of broken bottle. The darning-needle spoke
to it, because it sparkled⁶, and represented herself as a
breast-pin. "I suppose you are really a diamond?" she said.

    "Why yes, something of the kind," he replied; and so each
believed the other to be very valuable, and then they began to
talk about the world, and the conceited⁷ people in it.

    "I have been in a lady's work-box," said the
darning-needle, "and this lady was the cook. She had on each
hand five fingers, and anything so conceited as these five
fingers I have never seen; and yet they were only employed to
take me out of the box and to put me back again."

    "Were they not high-born?"

    "High-born!" said the darning-needle, "no indeed, but so
haughty. They were five brothers, all born fingers; they kept
very proudly together, though they were of different lengths.
The one who stood first in the rank was named the thumb, he
was short and thick, and had only one joint⁸ in his back, and
could therefore make but one bow; but he said that if he were
cut off from a man's hand, that man would be unfit for a
soldier. Sweet-tooth, his neighbor, dipped himself into sweet
or sour, pointed⁹ to the sun and moon, and formed the letters
when the fingers wrote. Longman, the middle finger, looked
over the heads of all the others. Gold-band, the next finger,
wore a golden circle round his waist. And little Playman did
nothing at all, and seemed proud of it. They were boasters,
and boasters they will remain; and therefore I left them."

    "And now we sit here and glitter," said the piece of
broken bottle.

    At the same moment more water streamed into the gutter, so
that it overflowed¹⁰, and the piece of bottle was carried away.

    "So he is promoted," said the darning-needle, "while I
remain here; I am too fine, but that is my pride, and what do
I care?" And so she sat there in her pride, and had many such
thoughts as these,- "I could almost fancy that I came from a
sunbeam, I am so fine. It seems as if the sunbeams were always
looking for me under the water. Ah! I am so fine that even my
mother cannot find me. Had I still my old eye, which was
broken off, I believe I should weep; but no, I would not do
that, it is not genteel to cry."

    One day a couple of street boys were paddling in the
gutter, for they sometimes found old nails, farthings, and
other treasures. It was dirty work, but they took great
pleasure in it. "Hallo!" cried one, as he pricked¹¹ himself with
the darning-needle, "here's a fellow for you."

    "I am not a fellow, I am a young lady," said the
darning-needle; but no one heard her.

    The sealing-wax had come off, and she was quite black; but
black makes a person look slender, so she thought herself even
finer than before.

    "Here comes an egg-shell sailing along," said one of the
boys; so they stuck the darning-needle into the egg-shell.

    "White walls, and I am black myself," said the
darning-needle, "that looks well; now I can be seen, but I
hope I shall not be sea-sick, or I shall break again." She was
not sea-sick, and she did not break. "It is a good thing
against sea-sickness to have a steel stomach, and not to
forget one's own importance. Now my sea-sickness has past:
delicate people can bear a great deal."

    Crack went the egg-shell, as a waggon¹² passed over it.
"Good heavens, how it crushes!" said the darning-needle. "I
shall be sick now. I am breaking!" but she did not break,
though the waggon went over her as she lay at full length; and
there let her lie.


                            THE END

上一篇：THE DAISY 下一篇：DELAYING IS NOT FORGETTING