once upon a time there was a darning needle who imagined she was so fine that she really was a sewing needle.
"be careful and hold me tightly!" she warned the fingers that picked her up. "don't drop me! if i fall on the floor you may never find me again; that's how fine i am!"
"that's what you think!" replied the fingers, and squeezed her around the waist.
"look, here i come with my train!" said the darning needle, and she drew a long thread behind her, but there was no knot in the thread.
the fingers aimed the needle straight at the cook's slipper, where the upper leather had burst and had to be sewed together.
"my! what vulgar work!" sniffed the darning needle. "i'll never get through! look out! i'm breaking! i'm breaking in two." and just then she did break. "i told you so," she said. "i'm much too delicate!"
"well, she's no good now," thought the fingers, but they had to hold on to her all the same. for the cook dropped a little sealing wax on the end of the needle to make a head, and then she pinned her kerchief together with it in front.
"look! now i'm a breastpin," said the needle. "i knew perfectly well i'd be honored. if you are something you always amount to something."
then she laughed, but it was inwardly, because no one can ever really see a darning needle laugh. there she sat on the cook's bosom, proud as if she were in a state coach, and looked all around her.
"may i be permitted to inquire if you're made of gold?" she very politely asked a little pin near her. "you look pretty, and you have a head of your own, but it's rather small. you must be careful to grow bigger. not everyone can have sealing wax on one end like me!"
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