Throwing the snake upon the ground, in an agony of disgust, she felt for the sparrow’s egg; but, alas! the empty shell was alone there,—the snake had sucked the egg. “How I wish I had not stolen away the sparrow’s egg! The snake has eaten what would have been a pretty bird. I would give the sparrow one of my fairy eggs, if I thought he would like it, but perhaps he would not. Vile snake!” she cried, stepping back as she saw the snake writhing on the ground close by her feet. Her words seemed to give him a death-stroke; he lay still, as though lifeless; she touched him with her foot, but he did not move. There was a little frog-pond near by, and to make sure that he should not come to life again, Lizzy took the snake on a stick, and threw it into the pond and then put another egg into her bosom. As she stood by the pond, lashing the water with the stick, she began to fear she was not quite so delightful a child as she had imagined herself to be, and to wonder what she should do to make the egg hatch a pretty creature. “Let me think,” said she, “what have I to do before dinner? I have some sewing to do, and two lessons to study. Now, if I go directly home, and do these things well, instead of staying here to play, perhaps I shall find, after I have finished my tasks, some bright bird, or shining insect, in my bosom. To be sure, that ought not to be my only reason for doing well, and it is not my only reason.” This was quite true; for Lizzy began to feel so penitent for the unpleasant things she had done, that she felt a desire to make amends of some sort. “I believe I will,” said she, “go directly home, and see how much I can do before dinner. Oh! see the tadpoles! how they run and wag their tails, queer creatures! but I must not stay.” A frog then leaped into the water, from amongst the grass at the other side of the pond. “Ah! father long-legs! what a water-nymph you are! I must just go round and see if there are not some more frogs there; I do love so to see them leap into the water with such a plash.” And she walked round the water, frightening the frogs from the grass; and when they had all leaped into the water, she thought she must sit down quite still for a few moments, just to see if one would not jump out again. She waited a few moments,—and then a few more,—and then a few more. “Oh, dear!” she cried, “I will wait till one—just one—comes, if I wait till night, I am determined.” But it seemed as if the frogs were determined to be revenged upon Lizzy for frightening them in, for not one lifted his head above the water, for more than a quarter of an hour; and Lizzy began to feel a little frightened, and to wish she had made no promise. At length one, more courageous or less obstinate than the rest, leaped upon the bank. “Oh; and there is another!” Now Lizzy must just go and drive them in again, because it is still better to see them leap in: for you then have the pleasure of seeing them swim. As she stood watching them swim, she thought the egg in her bosom felt cold; this reminded her of her good resolution, and she walked straight homewards.
It was dinner time when she reached home.—Ah! where were the lessons and the sewing? and why had not the egg hatched? It was a great while since she put it into her bosom. She did not believe it was going to hatch at all, for it still felt cold, and she thought she would break the shell, and see if there was anything in it. Yes, there was something, and something very pretty, too. A small, shining, green bee; but it was dead. Oh! those amusing frogs!
“Well, this one,” said Lizzy, as she put the last egg into her bosom, “shall hatch a beautiful bee; for, as soon as dinner is over, I will sit down and be as industrious as a bee on a summer’s morning.”
“Lizzy,” said her mother, while they were sitting at table, “what was that you put into your bosom, just now?”
“What, mother? when?” asked Lizzy; for she did not feel as if the story she had to tell about the eggs would be one much to her credit, and she was too proud to be willing to tell it.
“As you were sitting down, I observed you put something into your bosom; what was it?”
“Oh, I—just happened to put my hand into my bosom.”
“Lizzy, you had something in your hand; I saw it.”
“Why, mother, you are mistaken. I—I—”