"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.