he reached a poor little cottage that seemed ready to fall, and only remained standing because it could not decide on which side to fall first

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Yet still they flew on and on, higher and higher, till at last the mirror trembled so fearfully that it slipped from their hands and fell to the earth, shivered into hundreds of millions and billions of bits. And then it did more harm than ever. Some of these bits were not as big as a grain of sand and these flew about, all over the world, getting into people’s eyes. And once in, they stuck there and distorted everything they looked at or made them see everything that was amiss.

out-of-doors there was quite a snow-storm. “It is the white bees that are swarming,” said Kay’s old grandmother. “Do the white bees choose a queen?” asked the little boy; for he knew that the honey-bees always have one. “Yes,” said the grandmother, “she flies where the swarm hangs in the thickest clusters. She is the largest of all; and she can never remain quietly on the earth, but goes up again into the black clouds. Many a winter’s night she flies through the streets of the town, and peeps in at the windows; and they then freeze in so wondrous a manner that they look like flowers.

"‎"Does all the beauty of the world stop when you die?"

"No," said the Old Oak; "it will last much longer - longer than I can even think of."

"Well, then," said the little May-fly, "we have the same time to live; only we reckon differently.

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