3
Two days later, the dragon-fly came flying up and settled on the flowers of the water-lily.
“Good-morning,” said the water-lily. “So you’ve come at last. I was beginning to think that you had grown too grand to come and see your old friends.”
“Good-morning,” said the dragon-fly. “Where shall I lay my eggs?”
“Oh, you’ll find a place somewhere,” replied the flower. “Sit down first and tell me if you are happier now than when you were an ugly little grub crawling up and down my stalk.”
“Where can I lay my eggs? Oh, wherever can I lay my eggs?” cried the dragon-fly and flew buzzing from leaf to leaf, laying one here and one there, and at last sat down, tired and exhausted, on a leaf.
“Well?” said the water-lily.
“Oh, I was much better off then,” sighed the dragon-fly. “The sunshine is glorious and it is a great delight to fly over the water, but I never have time to enjoy it. I tell you, I’m awfully busy. In the old days, I had nothing to think of. And now I have to fly about all day long to lay these silly eggs. I haven’t a moment to myself and have hardly time to eat.”
“What did I tell you?” cried the water-lily, triumphantly. “Didn’t I prophesy that your happiness would be no greater?”
“Good-bye,” said the dragon-fly, with a sigh. “I have no time to listen to you: I must go and lay more eggs.”