Butterflies!--Lark! you are too wise to believe such nonsense
yourself, for you know it is impossible."

"I know no such thing," said the Lark, warmly. "Whether I hover
over the corn-fields of earth, or go up into the depths of the sky,
I see so many wonderful things, I know no reason why there should
not be more. Oh, Caterpillar! it is because you crawl, because you
never get beyond your cabbage-leaf, that you call _any_ thing
_impossible_."

"Nonsense!" shouted the Caterpillar, "I know what's possible, and
what's not possible, according to my experience and capacity, as
well as you do. Look at my long green body and these endless legs,
and then talk to me about having wings and a painted feathery coat!
Fool!--"

"And fool you!" cried the indignant Lark. "Fool, to attempt to
reason about what you cannot understand! Do you not hear how my
song swells with rejoicing as I soar upwards to the mysterious
wonder-world above? Oh, Caterpillar; what comes to you from thence,
receive, as _I_ do, upon trust."

"That is what you call--"

"_Faith_," interrupted the Lark.

"How am I to learn Faith?" asked the Caterpillar.

At that moment she felt something at her side. She looked
round--eight or ten little green Caterpillars were moving about,