tawny ones, they all followed the Piper for their lives
until they came to the edge of the river. Then the
Piper suddenly stepped aside and down they tumbled
and--were--drowned!

Only one too-plump caterpillar came humping slowly
back to the playground, making great lamentation.

"What is the matter with you?" asked Little Bear,
who had laughed until he was obliged to wipe away tears
with the back of his paw at the sight of so many caterpillars
following the Pied Piper.

"Oh me, oh my!" wailed the mournful caterpillar.
"He said we should sleep in cradles of silk and wake up
with wings of purple! It has been the dream of my life
to be a butterfly with wings of gold and purple!"

"Cheer up," comforted Little Bear, "you just spin
yourself a cocoon caterpillar fashion and go to sleep,
and you will surely find yourself turned into a butterfly
when you wake up! Mother said so! Now there! Why
didn't I remember that caterpillars turn into butterflies,
before I promised to give away my porridge bowl! I
should like to have my playground full of butterflies! I
wish I had thought of that! Now those poor old caterpillars
are gone and I promised to give away my bowl!
Maybe the Pied Piper will not come back!"

But he did. "I should like my bowl!" said he.