"They laughed at me, and hurt me. They are miserable creatures. I hate them!"
"No, Johannes, you love them."
"No! No!"
"If you did not, you would not mind it so much that they are not like yourself; and it would not matter what they said. You must concern yourself less about human beings."
"I want my key. I want to show it to them."
"You must not do that; they would not believe you even if you did. What would be the use of it?"
"I want my little key—under the rose-bush. Do you know how to find it?"
"Yes, indeed! Near the pond, is it not? Yes, I know."
"Then take me to it, Wistik."
Wistik climbed up to Johannes' shoulder, and pointed out the way. They walked the whole day long. The wind blew, and now and then showers fell; but at evening the clouds ceased driving, and lengthened themselves out into long bands of gray and gold.