“Said a Sheet of Snow-White Paper....”

Said a sheet of snow-white paper, “Pure was I created, and pure will I

remain for ever. I would rather be burnt and turn to white ashes than

suffer darkness to touch me or the unclean to come near me.”

The ink-bottle heard what the paper was saying, and it laughed in its

dark heart; but it never dared to approach her. And the multicoloured

pencils heard her also, and they too never came near her.

And the snow-white sheet of paper did remain pure and chaste for

ever--pure and chaste--and empty.