“Can I believe it?” asked the ball.
“May I never be whipped again,” said the top, “if I am not telling you the
truth.”
“You certainly know how to speak for yourself very well,” said the ball;
“but I cannot accept your proposal. I am almost engaged to a swallow.
Every time I fly up in the air, he puts his head out of the nest, and says,
‘Will you?’ and I have said, ‘Yes,’ to myself silently, and that is as good as
being half engaged; but I will promise never to forget you.”
“Much good that will be to me,” said the top; and they spoke to each
other no more.
Next day the ball was taken out by the boy. The top saw it flying high in
the air, like a bird, till it would go quite out of sight. Each time it came
back, as it touched the earth, it gave a higher leap than before, either
because it longed to fly upwards, or from having a Spanish cork in its body.
But the ninth time it rose in the air, it remained away, and did not return.
The boy searched everywhere for it, but he searched in vain, for it could not
be found; it was gone.
“I know very well where she is,” sighed the top; “she is in the swallow’s
nest, and has married the swallow.”
The more the top thought of this, the more he longed for the ball. His
love increased the more, just because he could not get her; and that she
should have been won by another, was the worst of all. The top still twirled
about and hummed, but he continued to think of the ball; and the more he
thought of her, the more beautiful she seemed to his fancy.
Thus several years passed by, and his love became quite old. The top,
also, was no longer young; but there came a day when he looked handsomer
than ever; for he was gilded all over. He was now a golden top, and whirled
and danced about till he hummed quite loud, and was something worth
looking at; but one day he leaped too high, and then he, also, was gone.
They searched everywhere, even in the cellar, but he was nowhere to be
found. Where could he be? He had jumped into the dust-bin, where all sorts
