“Oh, dear, kind friend, don’t fly away and leave me!” begged the Bluebottle meekly.
“You’ve flown away and left me often enough,” said the lady friend.
“I’ll never do it again as long as I live!” cried he.
“You couldn’t if you wanted to,” said she, and stroked the broken wing.
“Oh, why wasn’t I content with a bluebottle bride?” groaned he.
“No lady bluebottle will look at you now,” said she, “for you’ll always fly lame as long as you live.”
“Oh, won’t you take pity on me?” asked the poor Bluebottle, who felt thoroughly humble by this time.
Then his lady friend put her own strong wing under his broken one.
“I’ll marry you—out of charity,” she said, and flew away with him.