Who will save the Dragonfly?



Who will save the Dragonfly? Somewhere like, in nature - among cereal fields - living without a permit Dragonfly and the Ant.

Ant, working guy, all the fields in the den pulls. All that is bad is there, beckoning the eye and brain itch. And the seasoned eye he mentally divides: "right now" and "later". In the course of blowing all six feet, he is afraid that is not enough. If the total den he no good cause, then no later than the winter, "flippers stick together", "oak embed" ... In general, all die. And that God only asks that were eight feet.

A neighbor-dragonfly - the one that sang all summer, look no time ... (but managed to say a word, tell all Krylov.) In the summer she was bored: there smoothed, there okuchat. In idle bliss without the hassle of burning through a lifetime, look down on the light.

Say: "What are you, cockroaches, my dear little bug, bother, how much for nothing - look at me. Time to spend so that everything was burning. The strap shall be drawn let a fool. We, the distinguished person, not strain your hand. Beauty - great force. Confirm, guys! "

Dragonfly summer singing, throat fighting, eating buns, and her late start did not foreshadowed. Drinking tea, and all that tight, poured it in the evening. Life is breathed in deeply: not one but two at once ... "That's what I was dashing, look at me! What should we build a house - draw, we will live. If there is someone to work, there is no reason to grieve. "

As we know, even the fly by September will end. So here: the frost hit, someone without wool - so kapets. Dragonfly, trembling all over, sweeping the right and left. I looked back and lo and behold here. From fans of the rich is not a trace. If you do not warm up quickly, "flippers stick together" forever. In the house knocking on ants. "Shelter you my body!"

"What are you, dear neighbor, spread the facets? I remember the summer she sang fluently: sweet sleep, plenty to eat. So go and sing now, maybe someone will give. There's no sense of glamor, if the skin freezes.

"Had you compassion. I'm God's creation. Do you want to breed with you - I'll be faithful to his wife. Look at my article - I'm not proud girl, I can lie down and stand up. "
 
"What nonsense, my God! Intermarry me? With you? Oh, girlfriend, amuse - you as the pope awl! From thy-I excesses posedeyu ahead of schedule. So, darling, "ce la vie". You're outside, I inside. Do not look at what hurts, do not groan - die with dignity. "

"Well, then, my friend, farewell."

"There will be time - ran.

The door slammed shut forever, all snapped inside. "Do sginu the roots, does it really" ce la vie "? Well, at least in parting I will do my dance and sing to me so that shudder every dead and alive.

Voice of pure, ringing voice sliced the air and tranquility. Due to the slits at the door listening for a long time, weeping silently, our heartless Ant. He could not stand the pressure of feeling that his chest was crushed, the door opened and shouted loudly: "You conquered my heart. Ruined such a miracle, ant I will not. And the last I'll goat, if you repay the talent cynical evil. Come, beautiful girl, let's have fun together.

Everybody is happy, everything is fine. Alive all, and it is cool. A morality tale from there: lay in store for the winter coat. There's no wool - Build a house, but do not stop, like a stump stupid. Hardly enough for ants, so to warm all lackeys.

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