Dark Parables - Rise Of The Snow Queen CE - Full PreCracked - Fo SKIDROW
Argimiro Krishnamoorthy
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"Can I hire you to watch over my poor little children?" a butterfly asked a quiet caterpillar who was walking along a cabbage leaf in her slow, blundering way. "Look at these helpless little eggs," continued the butterfly, "I don't know how long it will be before they hatch, and I'm not feeling very well. I feel weak and tired, and if I die, who will take care of my baby butterflies? Will you take care of them, kind, gentle green Caterpillar? You'll have to be careful about what they eat; they won't be able to eat the rough stuff you eat. You'll have to give them dew in the early morning, and nectar from the flowers. You'll have to make sure they fly around only a little way at first, since they won't be able to use their wings at the beginning. Oh dear, it's too bad you can't fly yourself! But I don't have time to look around for another caretaker, so I hope you'll do your best for them. Oh, dear. I don't know what possessed me to lay the eggs on a cabbage leaf! What a place for baby butterflies to be born! But you'll promise to be kind to them, won't you? Here, you can have this gold dust from my wings as payment. Oh, I'm so light-headed! Caterpillar, you will be careful about their diet, and remember not to--"
Dark Parables - Rise Of The Snow Queen CE - Full PreCracked - Fo SKIDROW
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And with these words, the butterfly closed her eyes . . . and died. The green caterpillar hadn't even had a chance to say yes or no to her request. She was left standing alone beside the butterfly's eggs.
"I'm hardly fit to take care of her babies, poor lady!" exclaimed the caterpillar. "This is not going to be easy. She must have been desperate, or else she never would have asked a poor crawling creature like me to bring up her dainty little children! They aren't likely to listen to me when they feel their lovely little wings on their backs and discover that they can fly away from me whenever they want to. Oh dear, some people have no sense, in spite of their beautifully colored clothing and gold dust on their wings."
But the poor butterfly was dead, and there were her poor abandoned eggs laying on the cabbage leaf. The green caterpillar had a kind heart, so she decided to try to do her best. But she was so anxious and worried that she couldn't sleep that night. Her back started to ache from walking all around the little eggs all night to make sure no harm came to them. In the morning she said to herself--
But there was still the question of who might be the right person to ask. There was the shaggy brown dog who came to the garden sometimes. But he was so rough! He would most likely whisk all the eggs off the cabbage leaf with one brush of his tail if she called him over, and then she would never forgive herself. There was also the cat who sometimes sat under the apple tree, warming his fur in the sunshine. But he was so selfish and unsocial. He would never bother about the care of butterfly eggs. "Who is the wisest animal I know?" wondered the caterpillar anxiously. She thought and thought, until she remembered about birds. Since birds fly so high in the air and no one knows where they go, they must be very clever and know a lot. The caterpillar's concept of perfect glory was going up very high. Since she couldn't do that herself, she had great respect for anyone who could.
There was a lark living in the corn field next door, so the caterpillar sent a message to him, begging him to come and talk to her. When he arrived, she told him all her concerns and asked him what she should do, and how to feed and raise the little babies who would be so different from herself.
The lark said he might be able to do that, but he didn't give her any advice. A little while later, he went singing and soaring upwards into the blue sky. Gradually his voice died away in the distance until the green caterpillar couldn't hear him at all any more. Of course, she couldn't see him, either. She could never see very far even in the best of times, and it was hard for her to look upwards at all, even if she reared herself up as carefully as she could. She tried it now, but it was no use, so she dropped back down on her legs again and continued walking around the butterfly eggs, nibbling a bit of cabbage leaf as she went.
"The lark sure has been gone a long time!" she cried at last. "I wonder where he is now. I'd give all my legs to know! He must have flown up higher than usual this time. I would dearly love to know where it is he goes to, and what he hears on his travels. He's always singing about going up and coming down, but he never shares where he's been to or what happens there. I hope he comes back soon."
"No you don't," replied the lark. "You don't believe what I just told you about the butterfly's food, yet that's only the beginning of what I have to tell you. Caterpillar, do you have any idea what those little eggs will hatch into?"
"I always thought the lark was wise and kind," thought the gentle green caterpillar, starting her walk around the eggs again. "Instead, he has turned out to be sassy and foolish instead. Maybe he went up a little too high this time and it addled his brain. It's unfortunate when people who have the advantage of soaring up so high end up rude and silly in spite of it. And yet, I'd still like to know where he goes and what he does up there."
"I always believe what I'm told," insisted the caterpillar. "At least," and she hesitated, "I believe whatever is reasonable to believe. But you're trying to tell me that baby butterflies are caterpillars, and that caterpillars end up with wings and become butterflies! Lark, you're too smart to believe such ridiculous lies yourself; you know it isn't possible!"
"I don't know that," cried the lark angrily, "Whether I hover over the corn fields near the ground, or go up high into the sky, I see so many incredible things that I have no reason to doubt other amazing wonders. Oh, Caterpillar, it's only because you crawl and never get beyond your own cabbage leaf that you can call anything impossible."
"That's nonsense," shouted the caterpillar. "I know what is and isn't possible because of my personal experience and ability, just as much as you do. Look at my long green body and endless number of legs, and then try to tell me that I'll some day have wings and a colored feathery coat. Only a fool would believe that!"
"On the contrary, you who wish to be wise," cried the indignant lark. "You're the fool! You're attempting to make sense of things you can't understand. Can't you hear how happy my song is, and how I rejoice as I soar upwards into the mysterious world of wonders above? Oh, Caterpillar! Why can't you receive the knowledge that comes from there with trust, like I do?"
Just then the caterpillar felt something at her side. When she looked down, almost a dozen tiny green caterpillars were moving around and were already chewing holes in the cabbage leaf. They had hatched from the butterfly eggs!
The caterpillar was filled with shame and amazement, but she was soon filled with joy. After all, since the first impossibility had happened, why shouldn't the second? "Oh, Lark!" she would say, and the lark would sing to her about the wonders of the earth near the ground, and about the wonders of the heaven above. And from then on, the caterpillar spent the rest of her life telling all her relatives about the wondrous day when she would be a butterfly.
But none of them believed her. Nevertheless, she herself had learned the lark's lesson about faith. When it was time for her to go into her chrysalis grave, she said, "I'm going to be a butterfly someday!"
One lovely summer day, a strong young worker-bee left the hive to gather nectar from the flowers. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was warm, so the bee flew a long, long distance away. Eventually she came to a beautiful, cheerful garden. She roamed around in and out of the flowers, buzzing delightedly, until she was so loaded with precious pollen that she couldn't carry any more. At that point, she thought she would return home. But just as she was beginning the return trip, she accidentally flew through the open window of a country house, and found herself in a large dining room. There was a lot of noise and commotion because it was dinner-time and the people at the table were talking rather loudly. The bee began to get frightened. In spite of her fear, she tried to taste some sweet desserts that lay temptingly on the table. All of a sudden, she heard a child cry out, "Oh, there's a bee! I want to catch him!" The bee rushed quickly to try to get back out through the window and into the open air. But, unfortunately for her, she discovered that she had flung herself against an invisible wall. It was actually the glass from a closed window, but the bee was so alarmed and confused, that she couldn't see the difference. This surprise distressed her. She tried desperately to find the opening she had entered through until she was worn out. Finally, she started to walk up and down the wooden frame at the bottom of the window, hoping to gather her wits and her strength.
"She gets them from the insides of flowers. Remember how one time we watched the bees flying in and out of the crocuses? We laughed at them because they were so busy and fussy, and their dark coats looked so nice against the yellow leaves. I wish I had seen this bee loading herself today. But bees do more than that. They build a honeycomb, and do pretty much everything. She's a working bee, poor miserable fool."
"Well, Uncle Collins says that anyone who has to work for other people instead of working for themselves is a miserable fool. And that's exactly what this bee does. There's a queen bee in the hive who does nothing but sit at home giving orders, and cuddling the little baby bees. All the other bees have to wait on her and do whatever she says. And there are drones--lazy boy bees who lounge around all the time. And then there are working bees, like this one here, and they do all the work for everybody else. Uncle Collins would laugh at them if he knew!"
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