"So, he is disposed of," observed the Darning-Needle. "I remain here; I am too fine. But that's my pride, and my pride is honorable." And proudly she sat there, and had many great thoughts. "I could almost believe I had been born of a sunbeam, I'm so fine. It really appears to me as if the sunbeams were always seeking for me under the water. Ah! I'm so fine that my mother cannot find me. If I had my old eye, which broke off, I think I should cry; but no, I should not do that; it's not genteel to cry." One day a couple of street boys lay grubbing in the gutter, where they sometimes found old nails, farthings, and similar treasures. It was dirty work, but they took great delight in it. "Oh!" cried one, who had pricked himself with the Darning-Needle. "There's a fellow for you." "I'm not a fellow, I'm a young lady," said the Darning-Needle. But nobody listened to her. The sealing wax had come off, and she had turned black; but black makes one look slender, and she thought herself finer even than before. "Here comes an eggshell sailing along," said the boys; and they stuck the Darning-Needle fast into the eggshell. "White walls, and black myself! that looks well," remarked the Darning- Needle. "Now one can see me. I only hope I shall not be seasick!" But she was not seasick at all. "One is proof against seasickness if one has a steel stomach and does not forget that one is a little more than an ordinary person! The finer one is, the more one can bear." "Crack!" went the eggshell, for a hand-barrow went over her. "How it crushes one!" said the Darning-Needle. "I'm getting seasick now --I'm quite sick." But she was not really sick, though the hand-barrow had run over her; she lay there at full length, and there she may lie. THE POTATO By Thomas Moore I'm a careless potato, and care not a pin How into existence I came; If they planted me drill-wise, or dibbled me in, To me 'tis exactly the same. The bean and the pea may more loftily tower, But I care not a button for them; Defiance I nod with my beautiful flower When the earth is hoed up to my stem. THE QUEEN OF THE UNDER-WORLD Ceres, goddess of agriculture, had one daughter, named Proserpina, whom she loved more than anything else in earth or sky. Sometimes Proserpina accompanied her mother as she journeyed over the earth in her dragon- car, making the corn grow; sometimes she traveled about the earth by herself, tending the flowers, which were her special care; but what she liked best was to stray with her companions, the nymphs, on the slopes of Mount AEtna, "I, a maiden, dwelt With loved Demeter[FN below] on the sunny plains Of our own Sicily. There, day by day, I sported with my playmate goddesses In virgin freedom. Budding age made gay Our lightsome feet, and on the flowery slopes We wandered daily, gathering flowers to weave In careless garlands for our locks, and passed The days in innocent gladness."