"Yes, yes."
"Well, the' is a right quare thing with a big hade come outen hit, an' he done eat up some o' the leetle black bugs. I seed him jump quicker'n lightnin' at that leetlist fish only so long, an' try to bite a piece outen his fin—his lowest fin. What did he do that fer?"
"Why—why—he was hungry. He made his dinner off the little black bugs, and he wanted the fin for his dessert."
"I don't like that kind of a beast. Oncet he was a worm in a kind of a hole-box, an' then he turned into a leetle beast-crittah; an' what'll he be next?"
"Next—why, next he'll be a fly—a—a beautiful fly with four wings all blue and gold and green—"
"I seen them things flyin' round in the summeh. Hit's quare how things gits therselves changed that-a-way into somethin' else—from a worm into that beast-crittah an' then into one o' these here devil flies. You reckon hit'll eveh git changed into something diff'ent—some kind er a bird?"
"A bird? No, no. When he becomes a f—fly, he's finished and done for."
"P'r'aps ther is some folks that-a-way, too. You reckon that's what ails me?"