(1846)
There was once a darning-needle who thought herself so fine that she
fancied she must be fit for embroidery. “Hold me tight,” she would say to
the fingers, when they took her up, “don’t let me fall; if you do I shall never
be found again, I am so very fine.”
“That is your opinion, is it?” said the fingers, as they seized her round the
body.
“See, I am coming with a train,” said the darning-needle, drawing a long
thread after her; but there was no knot in the thread.
The fingers then placed the point of the needle against the cook’s slipper.
There was a crack in the upper leather, which had to be sewn together.
“What coarse work!” said the darning-needle, “I shall never get through.
I shall break! - I am breaking!” and sure enough she broke. “Did I not say
so?” said the darning-needle, “I know I am too fine for such work as that.”
“This needle is quite useless for sewing now,” said the fingers; but they
still held it fast, and the cook dropped some sealing-wax on the needle, and
fastened her handkerchief with it in front.
“So now I am a breast-pin,” said the darning-needle; “I knew very well I
should come to honor some day: merit is sure to rise;” and she laughed,
quietly to herself, for of course no one ever saw a darning-needle laugh.
And there she sat as proudly as if she were in a state coach, and looked all
around her. “May I be allowed to ask if you are made of gold?” she inquired
of her neighbor, a pin; “you have a very pretty appearance, and a curious
head, although you are rather small. You must take pains to grow, for it is
not every one who has sealing-wax dropped upon him;” and as she spoke,
the darning-needle drew herself up so proudly that she fell out of the
handkerchief right into the sink, which the cook was cleaning. “Now I am
