"See how sleepy the little mouse is," said the Mother. "Run out and play now, my children, and let him rest."
Taro and Take left the room softly and went out on the porch. They sat down on the top step to talk over the wonderful thing that had happened.
It was springtime and the flowers in the garden were just pushing their leaves through the ground. The sun was shining, and a little new yellow butterfly, that had only just crept out of its snug cocoon that very day, was dancing about in the sunshine.
"I suppose we were new once, too, weren't we?" said Take, watching the butterfly.
"I suppose we were," Taro answered. "We grew right up out of the root of a tree. Natsu told me so."
"I wonder which tree it was," Take said.
"It must have been one of the trees in our own garden, of course," Taro answered; "or else we shouldn't be here."
"Wouldn't it have been a terrible accident if we had happened to grow in some other garden?" said Take. She looked quite scared just at the very thought of such a thing.
"Maybe if we had we shouldn't have been ourselves at all," Taro answered. He looked a little scared, too.
"Who should we have been, then?" asked Take.