6. But I was not tired yet. So I ate and ate, until I began to feel my legs ache and my wings very heavy. Just then I heard a loud noise, and a light broke into my prison.
7. It was Rose turning the key in the lock and lifting the lid of the tea-caddy. "Oh, granny!" cried she, "here is a poor fly that can hardly move."
8. "I am afraid, dear, that the poor fly must thank himself for that," said Mrs. Sutton, looking closely at me. "He has been a little glutton, I fear, and has eaten so much sugar that he can hardly move."
9. "Poor little fellow," said Rose, "I will not hurt him. He shall go out of doors on to the cool grass and get well again.
10. "I dare say that, though he is not quite so pretty as a butterfly, he likes to be alive." So Rose took me up between her finger and thumb as gently as she could, but oh, what great big hands they seemed to me!
11. And my poor sides were pinched black and blue. That is the reason why I cannot bear one of the great hands which belong to men and women to catch hold of me.
12. You see we tiny flies are made so lightly, and we are so small. A mere touch will crush our dainty wings, or break our slender legs, or hurt our eyes.
13. How thankful I am that we have eyes that can see behind and all round us as well as in front!
14. We are able to get away, thanks to these eyes, when we see a great hand coming to catch us. Even a baby's hand seems like that of a giant to us.
