ABSTRACT
And things of many kinds swam over her, chips and straws and pieces of old newspapers. “Only look how they sail!” said the darningneedle. “They don’t know what is under them! I’m here, I remain firmly here. See, there goes a chip thinking of nothing in the world but of himself, of a ‘chip!’ There’s a straw going by now! How he turns, how he twirls about! Don’t think only of yourself, you might easily run up against a stone. There swims a bit of newspaper! What’s written upon it has long been forgotten, and yet it gives itself airs! I sit quietly and patiently here. I know who I am, and I shall remain what I am.”
