"Do you think so?" asked the lizard drawing its tail close. "Well, well! How strange! It seems to me that would not be at all amusing. I think it is much more amusing to live, to lie here and enjoy myself in the sunshine."
THE LIZARD LAY PERFECTLY STILL, LISTENING.
Anton began to laugh, but continued to beat the ground with his switch.
"Listen, Anton," said the lizard. "I have really such a very short time to live. Let me go in peace. Don't do me any harm. Perhaps I can be of use to you some day. You may be sure you will never regret it if you let me go."
"What could such a forlorn little creature as you ever do for me?" asked Anton, as he got up. "But since you ask me so prettily, I will let you run. Suppose we see which of us will get to Falkensten first."
"Oh, I shall, I shall!" hissed the lizard; and it hurried away through the grass, calling back, however, "Farewell, Anton; you may be sure I shall not lose sight of you." With that, the lizard disappeared and Anton resumed his toilsome journey.
The sun mounted higher and higher and the whole sky was like a sea of burning light. The houses and churches in the valley looked now like many tiny white stones scattered over the ground. The path, steeper and steeper, led through a grove of larches, and here little Anton must again rest. He took two big swallows from his bottle, and wiped his hot face with his shirt-sleeves.
Hearing a strange cracking sound over his head and looking up, he saw a little squirrel that sat on the branch of a neighboring larch, eating the seeds from a cone. Between the mouthfuls he spat the shells down, chattering softly meanwhile as if to say, "What an excellent breakfast this is! Truly a delicious breakfast!"