How glad the two were to see each other! They embraced and kissed, and licked each other's feelers. The Last Fly talked for days, telling her new friend what an awful winter she had spent and how lonely she had been. The young fly only laughed in her thin little voice. She couldn't understand how anyone could be lonely.
"Spring! Spring!" she joyfully repeated.
When Aunt Olga ordered the winter windows removed and Verotchka leaned out of the first open window, Last Fly knew what was happening.
"Now, I know it all," buzzed Last Fly, flying out of the window. "We flies make the summer."
THE STORY OF A BLACK-HEADED CROW AND A LITTLE YELLOW CANARY
I
THE Black-Headed Crow sat in a birch tree, pecking at a twig. Peck! Peck! She cleaned her bill, looked around, and suddenly cawed, "Caw! Caw!"