THE CHERRY CHILDREN
It was early spring. The Cherry Children woke up and called: "Mother, may we go to play now?"
"Wait till I have made your fairy boats," said the Cherry Mother.
They lay still and waited, and she made their fairy boats, with white silk sails. Then they sprang up and played in the sunshine, sailing to and fro on the spring winds, and throwing tiny scent-balls out into the air. The bees and butterflies and silver moths came to visit them; everybody laughed and chattered and was happy.
After a while the Cherry Children grew tired.
"Mother," they called, "we have played enough. We should like to rest now."
"Creep into your little green cradles," said the Cherry Mother. "Rest there and grow while I make your cradles big."
They crept into their cradles. The mother gently loosened the white sails and dropped them on the ground, where they lay like scented snowflakes. Then she made the cradles bigger as the children grew. She lined the wooden walls with softest satin, and covered them with a thick green covering. The winds blew and rocked the little cradles to and fro; from the neighbouring trees the birds sang soft lullabies, and watched and waited.
The green cradle coverings turned deep red. Once more the Cherry Children woke up.
"Mother, we wish to grow," they called.
"The birds are coming. They will carry you away to grow," replied the mother.
The birds came in flocks and carried the Cherry Children away in their beaks. They pecked off the sweet red coverings and ate them, dropping the hard wooden cradles on the ground. There the autumn leaves covered them when they fell, and the rain showers washed them farther and farther into the soft earth.
One day the wooden cradles split open at the sides, and out peeped the Cherry Children. They grew down and up, and soon wherever a cradle had fallen there stood a young cherry tree, slender and green.
THE DAISY FAIRY
She was a dainty little fairy, and all her work was daintily done. The river bank was so gay with her sweet, pink-tipped daisies that everybody admired it. The bees loved the spot.
One day she noticed that a hill standing near had no flowers on it.
"I must make that beautiful too," she thought, so she flew across and planted a daisy-seed near the top.
"That is absurd," said the Hill. "How can a thing so tiny be of any use to me?"
"Wait and see," said the Fairy. To the seed she said: "Swell and sprout and grow up and down."
The seed swelled and sprouted, and grew up and down; when the Fairy came again it had a root and a stem.
"Now make your leaves," she said; when next she came the leaves were made. "Very well done," she said. "Now I will help you to make your flowers, for they are most important."
So she and the daisy worked together at the flowers. First they made a stem, slender and green, with a knob at the top. On this they seated the flowers like tiny golden bells round and round in rings. In each flower they put a store of honey for the bees and of pollen for the neighbour flowers. Then they set a row of fine large white petals round the edge to catch the eyes of the bees, and the Fairy tipped them with pink. Last they made the green leaf coverings for the outside to keep away unfriendly insects.
"Fold yourselves over the flowers till the morning," the Fairy said to these leaves, "and then open widely to let the bees come in."
From her river bank the next morning the Fairy saw the daisy shining in the sunlight. She pointed it out to a bee. "There is a fresh daisy full of honey-cups," she said. The bee flew to it at once. He stood in the middle of the flower, unrolled his long tongue, and supped up the sweet honey from flower after flower, turning himself round and round till he had dipped into every one.
"Thank you, tiny daisies," said the Bee. "That was delicious honey."
"Thank you, Mr. Bee," said the Daisies, "for you have mixed our pollen, and now our seed will grow well."
The Daisy Fairy came again and said: "Drop your petals, close your green leaf coverings, and make your seed."
She came again when the seeds were ripe.
"Now scatter your seeds," she said to the daisy, and to each little seed as it fell she said as before: "Swell and sprout and grow up and down." The seeds did as they were told, and soon there was a ring of strong young daisy plants growing round the first one. Again the flowers were made and the seeds scattered; in a short time the hill was starred with pink and white.
"It is wonderful!" said the Hill. "I should never have believed it if I had not seen it."
"It was a tiny seed," said the Fairy, "but it has made you beautiful."
MY GARDEN
I have a garden of sweetest flowers,Beside the orchard wall.The sun sends sunbeams, the clouds send showers,To make them gay and tall.
Marigolds, wallflowers, cowslips, pinks,Pansies, and mignonette!Forget-me-not blue its star-eye winks;Roses their buds have set.
But dearest of all, in their border low,Bloom the daisies so wee.Pink and crimson, or as white as the snow;Daisies, daisies for me!
BED-TIME
Ticketty Tacketty, tick, tack, tock!Now then, young man, just look at that clock!Off with your shoe, and off with your sock.Ticketty Tacketty, tick, tack, tock.
PANSY
Pansy so velvety, pansy so wide,Pansy with heart of gold,How I wish I could stay outsideTill I saw your petals unfold!
When do you open them, pansy so blue?I watch, but never see.One day there's a bud; the next, there's—you!You aresucha puzzle to me.
Do you open them softly in the dark,While stars watch overhead?Or fling them wide with the morning lark,Before I am out of my bed?
MAY FAIRIES
"Come out and dance," called the Snow Fairies to the May Fairies.
The May Fairies peeped out of their homes in the hawthorn trees and shivered.
"No, thank you," they said. "It is too cold out there. Besides, we are busy making our buds."
They made tiny red-tipped buds and set them on the branches of the trees, two at the foot of each thorn. Then they crept down into their warm homes again to wait for the spring.
With the spring came the merry Sunbeams.
"Come out and dance," they called.
"Oh! are you there?" called back the May Fairies. "Then we must open our buds, so we have no time to dance."
They worked hard, blowing out the buds with their dainty breath, till at last the leaves opened and the trees were dressed in fluttering green.
The Spring Fairies came tripping past, waving tasselled catkins in their hands.
"Come out and dance," they called.
"We have no time. We must make our flower-buds," replied the May Fairies.
They made their wee round flower-buds and set them on the trees, and blew into them and puffed them out till they looked like tiny snowballs. Harder and harder they blew, until at last the flowers flew open. Then the trees looked as if showers of white stars had fallen on them from the sky in snow-time. How lovely they were! The little flies came from far and near to feast, buzzing out their thankfulness to the fairies for the sweet honey.
The Summer Fairies came with roses and forget-me-nots. "Come out and dance," they called.
"We have no time," called back the May Fairies. "We have to make our berries."
They gently loosened the white petals of the flowers and set them floating on the wind. Then they made the little green seed-balls into berries, blowing them big and round so that the seeds should have room to grow, and polishing the outsides till they turned red and glowed like garnets in the sunshine. What a feast the birds had!
When the fairies had finished it was autumn.
"Come and dance," called the Leaf Fairies as they fluttered past in their brown and crimson robes.
"We are coming," called back the May Fairies, "for now our work is done." They flew down from their tree-homes, free at last to dance through all the golden autumn days.
THE DRAGON
He was not a pretty fellow by any means when he lived in the water. Indeed, the mosquito babies thought him the ugliest and fiercest-looking creature in the world; but as he ate them up whenever he could catch them their bad opinion of him was hardly to be wondered at.
They all lived in the pool. The mosquito babies felt that it would have been a happy life if it had not been for the Dragon. He would lie so still and grey in the water that they would think he was only a stick, but as they came near his horrid mask would open, and out would shoot his cruel jaws; they would be swallowed before they had time to think any more. What an appetite he had! It seemed as if all the mosquito babies in the pool would never satisfy him.
But one day his appetite failed. "I feel very queer," he said. "I will go up into the air." He crawled slowly up a reed and hung on to it above the water, and there he seemed to sleep for days and weeks, neither moving nor eating. The mosquito babies could have a good time now—if there were any left.
As he hung there his skin grew strangely hard and dry and shrunken, as if it were becoming a lifeless case. And that is just what was happening. Inside it the Dragon was growing into something quite different from what he had been.
One morning he stirred. "How close and dark it is in here!" he said. "I must go out."
He put his head against the end of the case and pushed hard. Crack! went the dry skin, and out popped his head. "This is tiring work," he said; he stopped to rest and to grow used to the strong light.
Soon he began again. He pushed and pushed till the opening grew wide enough for his body; then he crawled slowly out and stood on top of his old skin. He felt strange and damp and chilly at first, but the sun was delightfully warm, so he stood still, to be dried and comforted.
"How changed I am!" he thought. Indeed, the change was wonderful. The flabby grey body and the ugly mask and claws were gone. In their places he had a long, slender body barred with black and gold, a shapely head with two big bronze-green eyes and delicate feelers, and six supple finely-jointed legs.
And he had wings! Yes, four beautiful, beautiful wings. He raised them one by one to dry them. He quivered with joy as he looked at their delicate lacework and lovely colours. "How fine they are! And how glorious it will be to fly!" he thought.
Soon he was dried and warmed. He spread his glittering wings, rose into the air, and sailed away to play with his cousins and catch moths—a Pool Dragon no longer, but a shining Dragon-fly.
GOLD BROOM AND WHITE BROOM
On a piece of waste land lived the Broom cousins.
"My leaves are bigger than yours," said Gold Broom to White Broom.
"Size is not everything," said White Broom to Gold Broom; they were always sparring at one another.
Buds came on the branches. Then the flowers sprang out and danced in the sunshine.
"How pale and small your children are!" said Gold Broom to White Broom. "Mine are golden and well grown. See how strong and happy they look."
"Yellow is such a common colour," said White Broom to Gold Broom. "White is much more refined. My children are not overgrown, but they are dainty. And how sweetly they are scented!"
The bees and moths came flying amongst the flowers, unrolling their long tongues and sipping up the honey.
"Are not my children the best?" asked Gold Broom of the bees.
"Are not mine?" asked White Broom.
"That is hard to decide," said the Bees. "We love them all alike. Gold Broom's children have more honey, but White Broom's honey is sweeter to the taste." They flew away to their hive, leaving the mothers to argue it out.
The children took no part in the discussion. They were too happy to quarrel. They played and danced every day, till at last they grew tired. Then they dropped their bright wings and shut themselves away in their little green houses.
Here they sat in rows on round stools and grew fat. The walls were lined with wool, so that the cold could not come in; every day Gold Broom and White Broom sent food up the stalk-passages to them. Thus they were comfortable and happy.
But outside the mothers were still quarrelling.
"My houses are bigger than yours," said Gold Broom.
"As I told you before, size is nothing," replied White Broom. "Anyway, mine are much finer in shape."
The houses turned brown and black, and the children turned brown and black. They were big and strong now, and they wished to come out. One by one Gold Broom and White Broom twisted the walls of the houses. Out sprang the children into the world. Pop! pop! pop! Such a splitting and twisting of little house-walls curling back upon each other! Such a jumping of brown and black children far out over the ground!
"Mine jump the farthest," said Gold Broom.
"Mine jump much more gracefully," said White Broom.
The children lay on the ground. The sun shone on them, the rain softened their hard coats. They swelled and burst, tiny shoots came out, and in a little while the ground was green with hundreds of young broom plants.
"Mine are growing the best," said Gold Broom.
"What nonsense you talk!" said White Broom.
KITTY CRAYFISH'S HOUSEKEEPING
Kitty Crayfish passed the first part of her life clinging under her mother's bent tail. But one day her mother said: "You are old enough to take care of yourself now, little Kitty. Make a house in the bank, and always creep into it while you change your shell."
She swam to the bank at the side of the stream, gently placed Kitty on a flat stone, and left her there. Kitty was not at all afraid. She was very tiny, but she was exactly like her mother in shape, and had the same strong claws and jaws. She set to work at once to burrow in the bank, and soon had a neat little house made. Tired with her hard work, she threw herself down and slept.
When she woke she felt hungry; so she went out to look for food. She walked forwards, creeping on eight of her queer jointed legs; but when she reached the water she turned round and swam backwards, using the blades of her wide tail as front paddles, and bringing all her swimming legs and swimmerets into play.
She made a good meal, for there were plenty of worms and grubs and tiny fish on the mud-floor of the stream, and her nippers were long and strong. While she was feeding, Old Man Crayfish came striding along the mud-floor. He would have eaten her for dinner if he could have caught her, for he was very fond of tender babies now and again. But she saw him coming, and was off before he could reach her. She swam back to her new home, well pleased with herself. Her housekeeping had begun well; she felt that she was able to take care of herself.
A few days later her mother peeped in at the door.
"You seem very comfortable," she said; "but are you not coming out to-day?"
"No," said Kitty; "I don't feel very well. My shell feels far too tight."
"Ah! it is going to split," said her mother. "I can see it looks very thin. You are quite right to stay in. Don't show yourself till the new one is hard, or somebody will devour you."
Kitty stayed in her house, lying still and feeling very queer. By and by her shell split across the back, just beneath her shield. She pushed her head out through the slit. Then she slowly drew the rest of her body out, till she stood quite outside her old shell, shivering and cold, and a little afraid. Her old covering lay there, legs and feelers and shield and tail; even the skins of the eyes on their little stalks. She herself stood in a new shell, exactly the same in shape, but quite soft.
Afterwards Kitty became accustomed to these wonderful changes; for she grew so fast that she had to have a new shell eight times during the first year of her life, five times the second year, and once every year after that till she stopped growing. Each time she had to hide in her house till the new shell became hard enough to protect her; then she swam out again, hungrier and stronger than ever.
She has been living in her burrowed house for years, making it bigger as she herself grew bigger. She is there to-day. She is a mother-crayfish now, and carries her little ones under her tail until they, too, are big enough to keep house for themselves.
THE GARDEN PARTY
It was a lovely summer morning. Everybody in the garden was busy, for in the afternoon the flowers were to give their great garden-party. The bees and flies and moths and butterflies and little beetles were all invited.
In the pansy plot the pansies put on their best velvet frocks, and brushed their little green shoes. The lilies dressed themselves in white, and hung bags of golden dust around their necks. The sweet-peas and roses and larkspurs were gay in many-coloured silks. They sprinkled scent over themselves, and filled their honey-jars full of sweetest honey for their visitors. All was cheerfulness and hustle.
At last the afternoon came and the visitors arrived. What excitement! Such a buzzing and chattering! Such a bowing and smiling and polite shaking of wings and feelers! The bees and moths and flies and butterflies and little beetles flew about, singing with pleasure and drinking the delicious honey provided for them. They told the smiling flowers how lovely they were, and the flowers in return dusted them with their golden dust. As the visitors flew from flower to flower they carried the golden pollen dust with them, leaving a little here and there; thus the flowers were able to exchange.
At last the party was over. The guests flew home well pleased, and the garden was quiet again. Night came; the flowers dropped their heads, and many slept.
But in the darkness some were awake, and they began to whisper to their neighbours: "Did you exchange?" The answers came: "Yes." "We did too." "So did we." "I shall not open to-morrow," said a pansy. "My exchanges are all made, and my seeds are beginning to grow. The bees found my honey easily, because my honey-guides helped them; so they carried all my pollen away, and brought plenty from my cousins."
"That is so with us," said many of the others. But some said: "We must keep open a little longer. Our seeds are not all growing." So they opened again next day, and gave little parties of their own, till all the exchanges were made and all the seeds were growing.
The sunny days passed, and now where the flowers had been were little seed-cases; some round, some pointed, some oval, but all filled to the brim with healthy young seeds. The sun shone on them, and they grew and grew till the cases would hold them no longer. Then there was a splitting and a bursting and a popping everywhere, and out sprang the little seeds, to begin a new life for themselves. As the young seedlings sprang up on every side, the older plants looked at them with pride. "We have very fine children," they said. "Next year we must give another garden-party."
BLUEBELLS
Bluebells, bluebells, did the fairies make you?Do they fly to you at night and ring you and shake you,And dance on your slender stalks?Do they stroke you and love you,And whisper above you,And take you for fairy walks?
COWSLIPS
O sweet the smell of the cowslip bell!Was ever flower so sweet?I picked it where its soft leaves fellAround its dainty feet.
How slender is its golden throat!How soft its scented face!It hangs from out its green pale coatWith pretty drooping grace.
OF ROYAL BLOOD
She was certainly a very grand princess. From the first the nurse-bees fed her with rich golden honey instead of the bee-bread that the common children received. She had a royal bedroom, too, very much larger than the others. At meal-times the nurses were always waiting with her honey; all day long they guarded and watched her, and fanned fresh air with their wings into her bedroom. So she grew big and strong.
One day she said: "I have finished growing, and shall put on my royal robes. Close the door so that nobody can see me while I dress."
The nurses closed the door, and she put on her royal robes. When she was ready they rushed to open the door again. She came out beautiful and shining.
"Now I am going to be Queen," she said to the bee-people who had gathered round her.
"Yes," they said. "The old Queen has gone to a new home and left this one to you. Hail! Queen of the hive!" They bowed before her with great respect, and walked backwards when they left the room.
Guards and honey-bearers were appointed for her, and maids of honour to keep her robes in order. So the new Queen entered into her royal state.
"I am going to be married," she said. She flew out of the hive and rose high in the air, and there she was married to Prince Drone.
"I must be busy," said the Queen, "or there will be no young bees for next season."
Up and down the hive passages she went, placing a little egg in each bedroom, and leaving it there to be hatched by the warmth of the hive. Up and down she went till thousands of eggs were laid.
All were busy and happy in the hive and everything went well. Then one sad day word went round that the Queen was missing. In a moment everybody left their work and rushed wildly through the hive, looking for her in every room and buzzing out their fear and sorrow. She was not in the hive!
Her guards were questioned. They reported that she had gone for a short flight in the fresh air, saying that she did not need their attendance. Scouts were sent out in all directions to look for her, while the bees stood about in groups, too anxious to do anything but wait for news.
One by one the scouts returned, reporting no success in their search. Others were sent out, and still others, but they too returned with no news. Then the buzzing died down to a sorrowful silence, for the bee-people felt that their Queen was lost. "She must have met with her death out there," they whispered.
Suddenly a joyful call came from a returning scout; next moment the Queen came flying in, tired and ruffled and shaking with fear. How her people crowded about her in their joy! They caressed her, stroked her trembling wings, and begged her to tell them what had happened.
"I flew rather far from the hive," she said, "and a huge monster called a boy threw his cap over me and then picked me up in his hand. I would not sting him as you might have done, so I was helpless. He carried me round the garden to another boy-monster, and they agreed to pull off my wings. Think of my terror! I struggled hard to escape, and at last managed to slip through the clumsy fingers of the monster, and flew home. Oh dear, it was terrible! I shall never again go out by myself."
"No, you must not," said her people. "We could not bear to lose our dear Queen."
They comforted her, and fed her, and soon the hive was going on again in its old, happy way.
BILLYBUZZ THE DRONE
"You are lazy," said the boy who watched the bees. "Why don't you work like the others?"
Billybuzz the Drone helped himself to a little more honey from the best pantry; then he turned his big brown head slowly towards the boy who watched the bees.
"You people will never take the trouble to understand us," he said. "You call us lazy, but we cannot work. We are not made like the workers."
"How is that?" asked the boy. "Surely you can fly about and gather honey? That is easy enough."
"Not if one's tongue is too short," replied the Drone. "The Worker Bees have long, hairy tongues to lick the honey out of the deep flower-cups, but my tongue is too short, and would not reach far enough down."
"But you could gather pollen to make bee-bread for the baby bees," said the boy.
"I have no pollen-basket," said the Drone.
"Can you not make wax?"
"No. I have no wax pockets in my coat."
"Then you could be a soldier-bee, and help to guard the Queen and hive."
"I should be useless. I have no sting."
"Oh, well, at any rate you could be a nurse and give the babies their meals, like those nurses over there."
"Why should I? Why should I work at all when I am the King?"
The boy stared. "You a King!" he cried
"Yes. Did you not know that we have a King and Queen?" asked the Drone.
"I knew that you have a Queen; we often hear about her. But I didn't think about a King."
"Well, I am the King—at least, I intend to be soon. At present I am a Prince. When my Queen comes out we shall be married, and then I shall be King. There are other drones waiting, but they shall not have her. Listen—she is singing in her golden room now. That means that she is coming out soon. I must be ready for the beautiful Queen."
He walked out of the hive into the sunshine. Here he brushed himself and spread his shining wings and looked very big and handsome. There was a stir in the hive, and the young Queen flew out and mounted into the air. With a rush Billybuzz flew swiftly after her, followed by the other drones who had been waiting. Whoever could catch the Queen first was to marry her, so they all did their best. Higher and higher they flew, till they were all out of sight.
The boy waited below, and presently the disappointed drones came back, bringing the news that Billybuzz had won the race. So Billybuzz the Drone married the Queen, and became King.
A few days later the boy again came to watch the bees.
"Where is Billybuzz the King?" he asked a drone who sat at the front door in the sunshine.
"Dead!" said the drone.
"Dear me!" said the boy. "How did that happen?"
"Oh, he just died," said the drone. "We all die very soon after we become kings. We are not made to live as long as the workers or the queens."
"Is that so? Then I would rather be born a worker than a king," said the boy.
"Everyone to his taste," said the drone. "A short life and a merry one for me."
HONEY
A little golden flower-cup,A little golden bee.A little store of honey madeFor Nell, and Jack, and me.
A little crystal honey-jar,A little pantry shelf.A naughty little Nelly-girlFalls down, and hurts herself.
ON THE HILLSIDE
The sun shone gaily, the skylark sang her morning song, and the crickets chirped their merriest; but the things that usually lived so peacefully on the hillside were quarrelling.
It was the wind who began it. As he lifted the pollen from one patch of grass-flowers and carried it to the next he cried boastingly: "What a friend I am to you tiny creatures! If it were not for me you could bear no seed. I am indeed useful. I am sure nobody does so much good."
"How absurd!" cried the bees. "Anyone would think you did all the work of the world. You certainly carry the grass pollen, but think of the flowers whose pollen we carry. What would the clover here do without us? And the wild flowers, and the flowers in the gardens and orchards all over the world. We are certainly the most useful."
At this thousands of earth-worms popped their heads above the ground. "If you are talking about usefulness, don't forget us," they said. "You see very little of us, for we come out at night when most of you are asleep. But think of all the work we do. We burrow and burrow here in our millions, ploughing the ground day after day till every inch is opened up to let in the sweet air and drain away the water from the surface. How could the flowers and grasses live if we did not do this? Think how fine we keep the soil, powdering it as we do in our burrowings! And how rich we make it by dragging down decaying leaves into our holes every night. The world would be a sorry place for everything that grows and lives if we did not work so hard. We are surely more useful than anybody."
The grasses waved their flowered heads. "All that is true enough," they said; "but nobody can possibly be more useful than we are. Think how we clothe the land and give food to hundreds of animals and shelter to millions of insects."
A little cloud sailed softly down on to the hill-top to listen. "What could any of you do without the clouds?" she asked. "You all depend on our rain for your lives; you must confess you are less useful than we are."
"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed the merry sun. "Fancy quarrelling this fine morning! Now I will tell you, and this will settle it once for all. You are all useful, and not one of you could be spared, and not one of you could do well without the other. Everything helps everything else. The worms help the grass, and the grass feeds the worms; the bees help the flowers, and the flowers feed the bees; the wind helps the clouds, and the clouds become rain and help the wind in its work. And I am here over you all, and if it were not for me nothing could live, so, after all, I am the most useful. If I did not shine there would be no grass, no worms, no flowers, no bees, no wind, and no clouds. Now go on with your work."
THE SUN'S NEST
Winnie and I went sailing fastOut to the golden West.We wished to see the Sun drop downInto his shining nest.
Our ship was soft and pearly white—A dear little cloud up high.We sailed along at sunset time,Across the flaming sky.
Winnie stood up and laughed with joy;Her curls blew round her head.The golden clouds raced past our ship,To see the Sun to bed.
The nest was made of red, red cloud,Hung like a rosy swing:An angel stood on either side—We heard them softly sing.
The tired Sun came dropping down,And cuddled in his nest.The angels spread their snow-white wingsTo guard him through his rest.
The soft wee clouds went home with us,The sky grew grey and blue;The stars peeped out and laughed and winked,And said: "Good-night, you two!"
CRIKITTY-CRIK
Mrs. Cricket flew busily round, looking for a good place for her eggs. "This will do," she said at last. "Here is plenty of food for them when they hatch." She flew down close to the roots of a soft green plant, pierced a hole in the ground with her piercer, placed the eggs in it with her egg placer, and flew off.
"Just the very dinner I like best," said Mr. Beetle to himself; he ran to the hole, dug out the eggs, and ate them up.
He thought he had them all, so he went away; but there was one left, hidden under a grain of earth. After a while it hatched out into Crikitty-Crik.
Crikitty-Crik could not fly, or sing, or lay eggs, for he was only a tiny cricket-baby. All he could do was eat, but that he did thoroughly. He gobbled up every scrap of soft vegetable food he could find in the earth, and as his mother had chosen a good place for him he found plenty and soon grew fat. His front legs were specially made for burrowing, and his jaws were made for nibbling.
One day he stopped eating and said: "I should like to fly." So he let his skin grow hard, and he shut himself up in it, and made his wings. He altered the shape of his mouth, too. "For I am going to suck leaves when I am a grown-up cricket," he said.
When everything was ready he pushed himself out through the top of his old skin and left it lying on the ground. Then up he flew to suck the juices of the leaves.
Such a handsome fellow he was—all green and gold and fine lace-work. And he could make music, for under his body he had grown two little flat sounding boards. When he moved his hind-legs quickly over these they made the cricket-song: "Crikitty-Crik! Crikitty-Crik! What a fine world it is!"
THE DISCONTENTED ROOT
The Root was grumbling again, and everybody felt unhappy. "It's not fair," she said. "Why should I have to stay down here in the dark while you can all live in the sunshine? It is work, work, work all day down here, finding water and food for you all; while you do nothing but enjoy yourselves."
"Oh, you must not say that," cried the stems. "We are as busy as you are. Your work would be useless if we did not spend our time carrying water and food from you to the leaves and flowers. And think of the weight we are bearing. You cannot say your work is harder than ours."
"It certainly is not harder than ours," said the leaves. "Think of all that goes on in our workshops. We supply as much food from the air as you from the earth. You must not say we are not busy."
The flowers bent their heads and spoke. "Dear little Root-sister," they said, "do not make us unhappy with your discontent. Life is very full of work for all of us. You must give us food or we cannot live, and we flowers must make our seed or the family would die out, so we help each other. Your work lies in the dark earth, certainly, while ours is in the sunshine; but the life up here would not suit you. I am sure you would die if you tried to live above the ground."
But the Root would not understand. "Fine words," she said, "but no comfort to me! Oh! I wish I could go up into the sunshine."
One day she had her wish, for a slip of the gardener's spade turned her above the ground. She was delighted, but the others were in despair. "Oh, dear, whatever will become of us now?" they cried. "If only the gardener would see you and put you in again!" But the gardener did not notice; it lay there all day.
"The sunshine is delightful," said the Root, though really its glare and heat were making her feel quite dizzy.
"How hot the sun is! And how parched we are!" sighed the drooping flowers. "Now we must die, and our poor little half-formed seeds will never grow into beautiful plants." And they laid their tender faces on the hot earth and died.
The afternoon wore on. The gasping leaves and soft stems almost died too, but the coolness of evening and the night dew revived them a little; when the morning came they tried to lift themselves and live on in spite of the hot sunshine that came again.
As for the Root, she was longing now for the gardener to come and put her in the earth. She had been dried and withered by the heat, then half frozen by the cold night dew; now here was another day to face in this glare of light and cruel sunshine. She knew now that the flowers were right in saying that the life above ground would not suit her. "If the gardener does not come soon I shall die, too," she thought.
The gardener came, saw the upturned Root, and set it in its old place. "I will never grumble at my life again," said the Root as the soft cool earth closed in around her.
"How thankful we are!" whispered the leaves faintly. "Now we shall live again."
But the flowers said nothing, for they were dead.
CREEPY-CRAWLY
At first Creepy-Crawly was nothing but a tiny egg on a blade of grass; but when he hatched out into a caterpillar he was Creepy-Crawly indeed, for though he had about sixteen pairs of legs, they were all so tiny that he could not be said to walk on them. But he crawled about quite happily, and was well content with life as he found it.
"Why don't you grow long legs like me?" said the Spider. "It must be terribly slow work crawling about like that."
Creepy-Crawly did not stay to answer. Out of his body he drew two threads as fine as the spider's own, glued them together with his mouth into a rope, and dropped by the rope from the branch to the ground. He did not like Mrs. Spider.
"Well, I wouldn't wear a green coat if I were you," said an Earth-worm whom he met. "Brown is a much nicer colour."
"Brown may be best for you who live in the ground," said Creepy-Crawly, "but green is better for me. The birds would like me for dinner, you know, but they cannot see me so well if I look like the leaves I feed on."
"You should wear a hard shell on your back." said a Beetle. "You are absurdly soft."
Creepy-Crawly wriggled quickly out of the beetle's sight, and a Butterfly who saw him laughed. She said: "Better grow wings, Creepy-Crawly. They are the best means of escape from your enemies."
Creepy-Crawly looked wistfully at her as she flew off. "Yes," he said to himself, "that is what I should like—to fly through the air in that grand, free way. That would be glorious! Ah, well! I have no wings, but I may as well be as happy as I can."
Creepy-Crawly had been eating hard for weeks, but now he began to feel less and less hungry and more and more drowsy. One day he curled himself up under a dead leaf and went to sleep; there he slept on and on for week after week without waking once to eat.
As he slept his skin turned brown like the worm's, and hard like the beetle's; but inside the skin a still more wonderful change was taking place. From his body six slender jointed legs with clawed toes grew slowly out, followed by four wings, which promised to be broad and beautiful when they had room to open. From the head grew two long feelers with little knobs at their ends. Over body, head, and wings a coat of tiny, many-coloured scales spread itself, softer than down, and as beautiful as the rainbow.
Creepy-Crawly woke up at last, but he was Creepy-Crawly no longer. He pushed his way out of his hard shell and stood on the dead leaf to dry himself. He spread his wings in the sun; he shook his six jointed legs one after the other; he turned and twisted himself this way and that in his delight.
"Who would have thought I should have come to this?" he said to himself. "Now I am a Butterfly. I am like the one that spoke to me that day. I will fly through the air as she did, and find her, and show her how I have changed."
He spread his beautiful wings and rose up into the warm air, and flew away to drink honey from the flowers and to dance with his butterfly cousins.