Linda did not say anything, but the words “every one in the world” came into her head many times during the day, and at night they came into her dreams, and she fancied she saw the words written in letters of fire, from which the flames shot up in all directions, and she was saying half aloud, “The bed will be on fire,” when a voice said—
“But you are not in bed, you are in the farmyard.”
Then she looked round, and saw that she was near the barn, and that there was a ladder not far off, and a great barrel close by. Also there was a heap of carrots, which Linda began to toss about, and to snap in two, and to pull the leaves off; and at last she was throwing them all into the duck-pond, when a voice suddenly said, “Stop!”
Linda looked round, but no one was to be seen.
“Stop!” said the voice again.
Then Linda looked down, and seated upon a stone she saw a carrot whose green top-knot of leaves she had broken off. Two little legs and two little arms had sprouted out, and it had eyes and a mouth, but no nose.
“Have you no feelings?” said the carrot. “Is it not enough to be taken from my home in the earth, without being knocked about and flung into a duck-pond? How would you like it?”
“I’m not a carrot,” said Linda.
“You don’t care for any one but yourself,” replied the carrot, growing redder and redder; “no one likes you, not even carrots, and you will find that some day people will pay you back for being so selfish. I am going to begin at once. Come carrots, carrots, carrots!” he shouted.
“In and out