And without a minute’s hesitation he began to buzz round and round the woodpecker, singing his old song:
“Zum, zum, zoo,
I want to marry you!”
When the woodpecker caught sight of him, she cocked her tail in a knowing way.
“Change of food is as good as change of air,” said she, and gave a peck that nearly finished the Bluebottle there and then, and tore his right wing from end to end.
So there he was, sprawling on his back with his legs curled up in agony, for a torn wing is no trifle. And now the woodpecker would certainly have gobbled him up; but just then the faithful maiden friend, who had followed the Bluebottle because he was bound to get into mischief, hurried up. When she saw the state of things, she didn’t stop twice to think, but took a dead leaf and dropped it right over the Bluebottle.
Now, when the woodpecker saw the maiden Bluebottle, she took her for the bachelor, and gave another peck. But the maiden flew away and hid behind a fern, and so the woodpecker went back to her worms.
“Oh! Oh! I’m dead! I’m dead!” groaned the Bluebottle under the leaf.
“Nonsense!” said his lady friend. “Rubbish doesn’t die so easily!”
You see, she was severe because her pride had been hurt.