"Certainly," said the beetle, "I shall be most happy; I have been exposed to the rain, and have had to lie upon linen, and cleanliness is a thing that greatly exhausts me; I have also pains in one of my wings from standing in the draught under a piece of broken crockery. It is really quite refreshing to be with one's own kindred again."
"Perhaps you came from a dung-heap," observed the oldest of them.
"No, indeed, I came from a much grander place," replied the beetle; "I came from the emperor's stable, where I was born, with golden shoes on my feet. I am travelling on a secret embassy, but you must not ask me any questions, for I cannot betray my secret."
Then the beetle stepped down into the rich mud, where sat three young-lady beetles, who tittered, because they did not know what to say.
"None of them are engaged yet," said their mother, and the beetle maidens tittered again, this time quite in confusion.
"I have never seen greater beauties, even in the royal stables," exclaimed the beetle, who was now resting himself.
"Don't spoil my girls," said the mother; "and don't talk to them, pray, unless you have serious intentions."
But of course the beetle's intentions were serious, and after a while our friend was engaged. The mother gave them her blessing, and all the other beetles cried "hurrah."
Immediately after the betrothal came the marriage, for there was no reason to delay. The following day passed very pleasantly, and the next was tolerably comfortable; but on the third it became necessary for him to think of getting food for his wife, and, perhaps, for children.
"I have allowed myself to be taken in," said our beetle to himself, "and now there's nothing to be done but to take them in, in return."