Under the rose-tree sat the snail, and he considered himself to be very important. He said he was going to do more than grow roses, bear nuts, or give milk. The rose-tree said he expected a great deal from the snail, and asked when it would appear. “I take my time," said the snail. The next year the snail lay in almost the same place, and the rose-tree was budding and bearing roses. The years passed, the snail told the rose-tree that he had became old and had to die soon, and asked if he had done anything for his inner developement. “I blomed of gladness,” said the rese-tree. The rose-tree vas happy, but it thought the snail was a deep-thinking nature. At last the snail had turned to earth, and the rose-tree had to, but there were other snails, and other rose-trees, and if you read the story again it will be the just the same.
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