At length one dug up a small star of a most lovely colour
-- a colour Diamond had never seen before. The moment the angel
saw what it was, instead of showing it about, he handed it to
one of his neighbours, and seated himself on the edge of the
hole, saying:
"This will do for me. Good-bye. I'm off."
They crowded about him, hugging and kissing him; then stood
back with a solemn stillness, their wings lying close to their
shoulders. The little fellow looked round on them once with a
smile, and then shot himself headlong through the star-hole.
Diamond, as privileged, threw himself on the ground to peep
after him, but he saw nothing. "It's no use," said the captain.
"I never saw anything more of one that went that way."
"His wings can't be much use," said Diamond, concerned and
fearful, yet comforted by the calm looks of the rest.
"That's true," said the captain. "He's lost them by this
time. They all do that go that way. You haven't got any, you
see."
"No," said Diamond. "I never did have any."
"Oh! didn't you?" said the captain.
"Some people say," he added, after a pause, "that they come
again. I don't know. I've never found the colour I care about
myself. I suppose I shall some day.
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