''
``Oh, I believe everything I am told,'' said the
caterpillar.
``Nay, but you do not,'' replied the lark.
``Why, caterpillar, what do you think those
little eggs will turn out to be?''
``Butterflies, to be sure,'' said the caterpillar.
``CATERPILLARS!'' sang the lark; ``and you'll find
it out in time.'' And the lark flew away.
``I thought the lark was wise and kind,''
said the mild, green caterpillar to herself, once
more beginning to walk round the eggs, ``but
I find that he is foolish and saucy instead.
Perhaps he went up TOO high this time. How
I wonder what he sees, and what he does up
yonder!''
``I would tell you if you would believe me,''
sang the lark, descending once more.
``I believe everything I am told,'' answered
the caterpillar.
``Then I'll tell you something else,'' cried the
lark. ``YOU WILL ONE DAY BE A BUTTERFLY YOURSELF!''
``Wretched bird,'' exclaimed the caterpillar,
``you are making fun of me. You are now cruel
as well as foolish! Go away! I will ask your advice
no more.''
``I told you you would not believe me,'' cried
the lark.
``I believe everything I am told,'' persisted the
caterpillar,--``everything that it is REASONABLE to
believe. But to tell me that butterflies' eggs are
caterpillars, and that caterpillars leave off crawling
and get wings and become butterflies!--
Lark! you do not believe such nonsense yourself!
You know it is impossible!''
``I know no such thing,'' said the lark.
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