“You go out to him.”
And out crawled a blowfly, and said:
“Take me.”
“I will not take you,” said the wifeless man, “for you pick your food from the muck-heaps.”
The blowfly laughed and crawled back again, and he could hear it say:
“He will not take me, because I pick my food from the muck-heaps.”
Then there was more whispering inside.
“Now you go out.”
And out came a fly.
“You may have me,” it said.