It is the black helmet, a part of his
coat-of-mail; it has broken off at the top, and is falling down over his
face. A minute more, and it drops below his chin; and what is his
astonishment to find, that, as his old face breaks away, a new one comes
in its place, larger, much more beautiful, and having two of the most
admirable eyes!--two, I say, because they look like two, but each of
them is made up of hundreds of little eyes. They stand out globe-like on
each side of his head, and look about over a world unknown and wonderful
to the dull, black bug who lived in the mud. The sky seems bluer, the
sunshine brighter, and the nodding grass and flowers more gay and
graceful. Now he lifts this new head to see more of the great world; and
behold! as he moves, he is drawing himself out of the old suit of armor,
and from two neat little cases at its sides come two pairs of wings,
folded up like fans, and put away here to be ready for use when the
right time should come: still half folded they are, and must be
carefully spread open and smoothed for use. And while he trembles with
surprise, see how with every movement he is escaping from the old armor,
and drawing from their sheaths fine legs, longer and far more
beautifully made and colored than the old; and a slender body that was
packed away like a spy-glass, and is now drawn slowly out, one part
after another; until at last the dark coat-of-mail dangles empty from
the rushes, and above it sits a dragon-fly with great, wondering eyes,
long, slender body, and two pairs of delicate, gauzy wings,--fine and
firm as the very ones he had been watching but an hour ago.
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