But, what was worst of all, they showed never a sign of moving on.
“I thought you said you were traveling,” the bravest of the queens ventured to remark at last.
“Why, so we were!” said the Beetles. “But one must settle down some time or other, and your air really suits us very well.”
“Did you hear that?” whispered one young working ant to another.
The two had come to the palace with a pitcher of milk just in time to listen to the conversation.
“They’ll never leave us,” said the second ant.
“Not unless some one takes steps,” returned the first ant.
“And, pray, whose steps, and why?” asked the second.
“You always were stupid,” said the first one, and gave her waist a twitch—which is a way ants have when they are put out. “Now, if some one were to take my advice,” she went on, “but there’s nobody in all the town with two pennyworth of spirit. Nobody would take my advice.”
“I suppose you couldn’t take it yourself?” asked the second ant, who really was not quite as stupid as people thought.