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"Not likely," observed Miss Loveydear with an air of mingled importance and distress. "You'll seldom find honey in the pockets of human beings. I'll tell you. A frog was in the pocket, and a pen-knife, and a carrot. Well?" "Horrible," whispered Maya. "What is a pen-knife?" "A pen-knife, in a way, is a human being's sting, an artificial one.
So Maya told of all the remarkable things she had seen and heard, of Miss Loveydear with the glittering wings, of the grasshopper, of Thekla the spider, of Puck, and of how splendidly Bobbie had come to her rescue. When she told of the sprite and the human beings, it was so quiet in the hall that you could hear the generators in the back of the hive kneading the wax.
"I have seldom met a human being who hasn't tried to catch me." "But why?" asked Maya in a tremor. "You see," said Miss Loveydear, with a modest smirk and a drooping, sidewise glance, "there's something attractive about us dragon-flies. That's the only reason I know. Some members of our family who let themselves be caught went through the cruellest tortures and finally died."
My name is Loveydear, of the order Odonata, of the family Libellulidæ." "Oh, do tell me about human beings," implored Maya, after she had introduced herself. The dragon-fly seemed won over. She seated herself on the leaf beside Maya. And the little bee let her, knowing Miss Loveydear would be careful not to come too close. "Have human beings a sting?" she asked.
Each time my brother thought he had got his liberty, he would be jerked back horribly within the boy's reach." Maya shook her head. "You don't dare even think of it," she whispered. "If a day passes when I don't think of it," said the dragon-fly, "I am sure to dream of it. One misfortune followed another. My brother soon died." Miss Loveydear heaved a deep sigh.
Have you ever had a sorrow in your life? Perhaps you'll tell me about it some other time." "No," said Maya. "As a matter of fact, until now I have always been happy." "You may thank your lucky stars," said Miss Loveydear with a note of disappointment in her voice. Maya asked about the frog. "Oh, him," said Miss Loveydear. "He, it is presumed, met with the end he deserved.
"Were they eaten up?" "No, no, not exactly that," said Miss Loveydear comfortingly. "So far as is known, man does not feed on dragon-flies. But sometimes he has murderous desires, a lust for killing, which will probably never be explained. You may not believe it, but cases have actually occurred of the so-called boy-men catching dragon-flies and pulling off their legs and wings for pure pleasure.
Beyond them lies one meadow after another, and finally comes a big lake. In a cove at the south end where the brook empties into the lake the waterlilies lie spread out on the water in the sunlight. Near them, in the rushes, is where Loveydear lives. You'll find her there every day at noon when the sun is high in the heavens." The warrior had pressed both hands to his pale brow.
"She belongs to the family of dragon-flies and she's the loveliest lady of all." A tremendous change came over the warrior. He seemed to have forgotten where he was. He leapt over to Maya's sides as if blown by a violent gust. "What! You know Loveydear? Tell me where she is. Tell me, right away." "No." Maya spoke quietly and firmly; she glowed with secret delight.
"A pocket," Miss Loveydear explained, "is a store-room that men have in their outer hide. And what else do you think was in the pocket when my brother was stuck into it? Oh, the dreadful company in which my poor brother had to draw his last breath! You'll never guess!" "No," said Maya, all in a quiver, "no, I don't think I can. Honey, perhaps?"