talked together of the world, and of how
haughty it is.

"I was with a certain miss, in a little box," said the darning-needle,
"and this miss was cook; and on each hand she had five fingers. In my
whole life I have never seen anything so conceited as these fingers!
And yet they were only there to take me out of the box and to put me
back into it again!"

"Were they, then, of noble birth?" asked the broken bottle.

"Noble!" said the darning-needle; "no, but high-minded! There were
five brothers, all descendants of the 'Finger' family. They always
kept together, although they were of different lengths. The outermost
one, little Thumb, was short and stout; he went at the side, a little
in front of the ranks: he had, too, but one joint in his back, so that
he could only make one bow; but he said, if a man were to cut him off,
such a one were no longer fit for military service. Sweet-tooth, the
second finger, pryed into what was sweet, as well as into what was
sour, pointed to the sun and moon, and he it was that gave stress when
they wrote. Longman, the third brother, looked at the others
contemptuously over his shoulder. Goldrim, the fourth, wore a golden
girdle round his body! and the little Peter Playallday did nothing at
all, of which he was very proud. 'Twas boasting, and boasting, and
nothing but boasting, and so away I went."

"And now we sit here and glitter," said the broken glass bottle.

At the same moment more water came along the gutter; it streamed over
the sides and carried the bit of bottle away with it.

"Well, that's an advancement," said the darning-needle. "I remain
where I am: I am too fine; but that is just my pride, and as such is
to be respected." And there it sat so proudly, and had many grand
thoughts.

"I should almost think that I was born of a sunbeam, so fine am I! It
seems to me, too, as if the sunbeams were always seeking me beneath
the surface of the water. Ah! I am so fine, that my mother is unable
to find me! Had I my old eye that broke, I verily think I could weep;
but I would not--weep! no, it's not genteel to weep!"

One day two boys came rummaging about in the sink, where they found
old nails, farthings, and such sort of things. It was dirty work;
however, they took pleasure in it.

"Oh!" cried one who had pricked himself with the needle, "there's a
fellow for you."

"I am no fellow, I am a lady!" said the darning-needle; but no one
heard it. The sealing-wax had worn off,