"Buzz! Buzz! No, it's mine."
Little Cacinella was barely able to escape from the angry drone. She crept into the grass, licked her thin little legs, sticky with flower nectar, and said angrily:
"How rude that drone was! It's quite amazing! He even tried to sting me to death! Why, aren't they all mine, the sun and the grass and the flower!"
"No, pardon me. They are all mine," said a fuzzy Caterpillar, crawling along a blade of grass. Little Cacinella realized that a caterpillar cannot fly, so she grew bold.
"Pardon me, Mr. Caterpillar. You are mistaken. I do not interfere with your crawling. Don't argue with me."
"Very well. Pray don't touch my grass. To tell you the truth, I don't like it. So many of you fly about here. You are all such light-minded creatures; while I, Caterpillar, am a serious person. To be frank, everything is mine. I crawl along a blade of grass and I eat it up. I get into a flower and I eat that up. Good day."
