"My moon, my stars," thought little Cacinella; but she did not dare to say it aloud. Some one might take them away from her.
III
LUMMER passed quickly for little Cacinella. There was so much to make her happy, but there were sad times, too. Twice she was almost swallowed by a swift marten. Once a frog crept up to her unawares and nearly gobbled her up. A little cacinella has many enemies, you know.
Our little Cacinella had her own joys. One day, she met another little Cacinella with long hairy moustache, who said:
"You are so pretty, little Cacinella. Let us be friends and live together."
And they did. And they were very happy. They were always together; wherever one went, the other followed.
Summer passed before they were aware of it.
Rainy days came; nights grew cold. Our little Cacinella laid many eggs. She hid them in the thick grass, murmuring, "How tired I am."
No one saw how or when little Cacinella died. She may not have died at all. She may have only fallen asleep quietly for the winter, to wake up in the spring and be happy once more.