“There can't be anything beyond,”said Father Snail,“that's any better than we have here.I have nothing in the world to wish for.”
“Well,I have,”said the mother.“I'd like to be taken to the manor house and boiled and laid on a silver dish.All our ancestors had that done to them,and,believe me,it must be something quite uncommon!”
“Maybe the manor house has fallen to pieces,”suggested Father Snail.“Or perhaps the burdock forest has grown over it,so that the people can't get out at all.Don't be in such a hurry—but then you're always hurrying so.And the little one is beginning to do the same thing.Why,he's been creeping up that stalk for three days.It really makes my head dizzy to watch him go!”
“Don't scold him,”said Mother Snail.“He crawls very carefully.He'll bring us much joy,and we old folk don't have anything else to live for.But have you ever thought where we can find a wife for him?Don't you think there might be some more of our kind of people farther back in the burdock woods?”
“I suppose there may be black snails back there,”said the old man.
“Black snails without houses!Much too vulgar!And they're conceited,anyway.But let's ask the ants to find out for us;they're always running around as if they had important business.They're sure to know of a wife for our little snail.”
“Certainly,I know a very beautiful bride,”said one of the ants.“But I don't think she'd do,because she's a queen!”
“That doesn't matter,”said Mother Snail emphatically.“Does she have a house?”
“She has a castle!”replied the ant.“The most beautiful ant's castle,with seven hundred corridors!”
“Thank you very much,”said Mother Snail,“but our boy shall not go into an anthill!If you don't know of anything better,we'll ask the white gnats to find out for us.They flit around in the rain and sunshine,and they know this forest inside and out.”