For a long time Benjamin Bat had had his eye on Freddie Firefly. And every time the two met, Benjamin stopped to tell Freddie how plump he was growing.
"You're just about ready to—AHEM!" Benjamin remarked when he came uponFreddie in Farmer Green's dooryard one fine evening.
"What did you say?" Freddie inquired.
"Never mind!" Benjamin Bat answered. "I was only talking to myself. It's a habit I have."
"You're a queer one!" Freddie Firefly exclaimed. "But it's no wonder. People say that you've hung upside down so much that the inside of your head is all topsy-turvy."
"When he heard that remark Benjamin Bat promptly flew into a rage.
"You'd better be careful!" he warned Freddie. "I don't allow anybody to talk to me like that."
"Oh! You mustn't mind what I just said," Freddie Firefly replied. "I was only talking to myself—AHEM AHEM!"
But strange to say, Freddie's answer failed to please Benjamin.
"Your remark was very disagreeable, anyhow," he declared.
"Well—so was yours," Freddie retorted stoutly.
"How can you say that?" Benjamin Bat inquired with a sly look. "I didn't finish it, did I?"
"No!" replied Freddie. "But you can't fool me. I know what you meant, as well as you do."
And straightway Benjamin Bat looked most uncomfortable, because he had been thinking that Freddie Firefly HAD BECOME PLUMP ENOUGH TO EAT.
Indeed, there was only one thing that kept Benjamin from devouring Freddie Firefly right then and there. And that was Freddie's flashing light. Yes! Benjamin Bat was afraid that if he touched Freddie Firefly he would get burned.
Once a forest fire broke out while Benjamin was asleep in the woods. And he didn't wake up until the tree in which he was hanging by his heels had begun to blaze. Luckily he escaped with his life. But the flames singed the tips of his wings and gave him such a fright that ever afterward he feared a fire or a light of any kind. And now he did wish that Freddie Firefly would put out his light, just for a short time. So he said, after a few moments:
"Don't you think you ought to stop flashing your light?"
"Do you mean—" asked Freddie—"do you mean that I ought to keep it glaring steadily all the time?"
"Oh, no!" Benjamin Bat replied hurriedly. "I mean that you ought to put it out for a while."
"Why should I do that?" Freddie Firefly wanted to know.
"To please Farmer Green, of course," Benjamin replied glibly. "Don't you know that a light always draws mosquitoes? And it can't be very pleasant for Farmer Green to have half the mosquitoes in the neighborhood crowding into his dooryard."
"What would be the use of my putting out my light, when all my relations are flashing theirs?" Freddie asked.
"Well, maybe they'd follow your example," Benjamin Bat suggested. "And just think what a good turn you'd be doing Farmer Green!"
Now, when Benjamin Bat spoke of his doing Farmer Green a good turn,Freddie Firefly looked puzzled.
"What has Farmer Green ever done for me?" he inquired.
"What has he done?" Benjamin cried. "Hasn't he furnished you a fine meadow in which to dance at night? And doesn't he let you come here in his dooryard whenever you please? I should think THAT was something to be thankful for!"
"Now that you speak of it, I don't know but that you're right," Freddie Firefly admitted, "though I never thought of such a thing before." And not wishing to be ungrateful to Farmer Green, he promptly put out his light.
Of course, that was just what Benjamin was waiting for. And since he could see perfectly in the dark, without a moment's warning he rushed straight at Freddie Firefly, with his mouth wide open.
If Freddie hadn't happened to flash his light just at that moment he would never have flashed it again.
As soon as Benjamin Bat saw the greenish-white gleam he was so afraid of getting burned—not knowing that Freddie's light could not harm him—he was so afraid that he swerved sharply to one side and zigzagged about the yard for a few seconds.
But he soon returned to speak to Freddie Firefly once more.
"You made a good beginning," he told Freddie. "But you turned your light on again too quickly. Just keep dark until I tell you to shine, and with a little practice you'll be able to do the trick very well. And Farmer Green will certainly be pleased. Now, just try it again!"
But Freddie Firefly could not forget how terrible Benjamin had looked a few moments before. And he began to suspect that Benjamin Bat was playing a trick of his own.
"It seems to me," said Freddie, "that you are a little too anxious aboutFarmer Green."
"Oh! no, indeed!" Benjamin Bat declared. "Farmer Green is a fine man. He's a great friend of mine. He furnishes me a whole tree near the swamp, in which I sleep every day. If you passed that way any time between dawn and sunset you could see me hanging by my heels from one of the branches."
"Just where is your tree?" Freddie Firefly inquired.
Having no idea that Freddie could do him the slightest harm, Benjamin Bat explained that his special, favorite tree was a great cedar, which stood close to the old bridge that crossed Black Creek, at the lower end of the swamp.
"I know where that is; and I'll go over there to-morrow and take a look at you," Freddie Firefly remarked.
"Do!" said Benjamin Bat.
"And I'll bring Solomon Owl with me," Freddie added. "For I know he'd like to see you, too."
"Don't!" cried Benjamin Bat. "Oh, don't do that!"
"What's the matter?" Freddie Firefly asked Benjamin Bat. "Why don't you want me to fetch Solomon Owl to your tree, to see you hanging by your heels when you're fast asleep?"
"Solomon Owl is no friend of mine," Benjamin Bat explained with a shudder. "He'd eat me in a minute, if he could catch me."
Freddie Firefly and Benjamin Bat faced each other in Farmer Green's dark dooryard.
"Yes!" Benjamin Bat's thin voice quavered. "Don't EVER bring Solomon Owl to my tree in the daytime. Although he doesn't see so well when it's light as he does at night, he could catch me without much trouble when I was asleep. And he would eat me in a minute—or only half a minute, maybe."
"Well, wouldn't you like that?" Freddie Firefly inquired, as if he were greatly surprised.
"Certainly not!" said Benjamin Bat. "You talk like a—AHEM!"
"Perhaps I do," Freddie Firefly retorted. "But I should think it would be just as jolly for you to be eaten by Solomon Owl as it would be for me to be eaten by you."
Benjamin started violently.
"What in the world ever put such a strange idea into your head?" Benjamin Bat cried. He was greatly astonished, for he had not supposed that Freddie Firefly suspected exactly what was in his mind.
"You put that idea into my head yourself," Freddie Firefly said very sternly.
And the moment Benjamin Bat heard that, he felt very sheepish. But unlike most people who feel ashamed, he did not hang his head. Strangely enough, Benjamin Bat was never so proud as when his head hung lower than his heels. And he had a habit, when he felt guilty or uncomfortable, of RAISING his head, instead of dropping it. So now he lifted his head very high.
And by that tell-tale sign Freddie Firefly knew at once that BenjaminBat would have flushed with dismay, had he only known how.
"You're a rascal!" Freddie cried fiercely, flashing his light again and again in Benjamin Bat's eyes, until that gentleman blinked so fast that it seemed as if his eyes must be in danger of turning inside out.
"You'd better be off!" Freddie Firefly shouted. "And if you ever come to me again, coaxing me to put out my light—so you can eat me—I'll certainly bring Solomon Owl to your tree when you're asleep there."
Still Benjamin Bat made no move. Yet he wanted to go away because he was in terror of being burned by Freddie Firefly's light. But he did not dare turn his back upon Freddie Firefly and his light and fly away. And he began to be sorry that he had never learned to fly backwards.
"Please—" Benjamin Bat stammered at last—"please do me a favor. I'm not feeling very well. I'm afraid I'm going to be ill. Maybe you'll be good enough to go and ask my friend Farmer Green to step outside his house a moment. Just tell him I'm in trouble," he whined.
"Trouble!" Freddie Firefly sneered, for he knew well enough—by this time—that Benjamin Bat was scared, though he couldn't quite guess the reason for Benjamin's fright. "You'll be in worse trouble if I show Solomon Owl where you sleep in the daytime."
"Stand back!" Benjamin Bat shrieked suddenly. "You'll singe my wings if you're not careful!"
Then Freddie Firefly knew exactly what Benjamin feared. And he was so amused that he couldn't help taking a turn around the dooryard, to dance and laugh and shout.
And when he came back to the place where he had left Benjamin Bat, that odd gentleman had vanished.
The terrified Benjamin had floundered away toward the swamp. And never, afterward, did he have a word to say to Freddie Firefly.
But whenever Freddie Firefly caught sight of Benjamin Bat's dark shape, flitting in a zigzag path across the moon, he always cried out in a loud voice:
"Look out, Benjamin Bat! Mr. Moon will singe your wings if you're not careful."
Finding himself face to face with Mrs. Ladybug one night in Farmer Green's meadow, Freddie Firefly noticed, even before she spoke, that the little lady was not in a cheerful mood. In fact, she frowned at him darkly and pointed one of her knitting needles straight at him as she began to speak.
"You're terribly careless with that light of yours," she said. "People are always warning me that my house is on fire and telling me that I'd better hurry home. Now—" she added—"now I think I've discovered the reason why my friends are forever worrying about fire. No doubt when they give me such advice they have seen you prowling around my house with that light of yours; and they think that if you haven't already set my house on fire, you're just a-going to."
When Freddie Firefly saw that Mrs. Ladybug was making Benjamin Bat's mistake of thinking that his light could start a blaze, he had to smile.
"Nonsense!" he cried. "I'm always very careful, Mrs. Ladybug, when I'm near your house. You know that I wouldn't want your charming children to burn up."
And now Mrs. Ladybug pointed her other knitting needle at Freddie.
"Well, if you're not careless, you're silly, anyhow," she snapped. "I wouldn't object so much to your light if only you'd put it to some good use. But as long as I've known you—and that's several weeks—I've never seen you do anything but caper about the meadow and dance." And then Mrs. Ladybug began to knit furiously, as if to show Freddie Firefly that she was never idle, even if she did spend a good deal of time away from home. "Do you intend always to fritter your nights away as you do now?" she inquired.
"What else could I do? I should like to know—" Freddie began.
"Why not use your light in some kind of work?" Mrs. Ladybug asked him.
"What work, I should like to know—" Freddie said. And since Mrs. Ladybug did not at once answer him, he added: "I don't believe you can suggest anything—can you?"
"Oh, yes, I can!" she declared quickly. "I was thinking. That's why I didn't reply sooner. Probably you don't know that I have helped many youngsters to begin to work. For instance, it was I that told Daddy Longlegs to help Farmer Green with his harvesting." Little Mrs. Ladybug felt so proud of herself that she dropped a stitch without noticing it.
"Daddy Longlegs! HE'S not young!" Freddie Firefly exclaimed.
"Oh! yes, he is! He's not so old as you think," Mrs. Ladybug replied."He's just about your age. And if he can work, you certainly can."
"But I didn't know that Daddy Longlegs was working for Farmer Green,"Freddie Firefly said.
"He tried to, one day. But the wind blew too hard. … It wasn't really Daddy's fault," Mrs. Ladybug explained. "And you ought not to attempt to work on windy nights, either," she went on. "For your light might go out, and then there'd be a terrible accident."
"What do you mean?" Freddie Firefly asked little Mrs. Ladybug. "What accident could happen if the wind blew out my light?" And he laughed very hard, because he knew that no gale was strong enough even to dim his greenish-white gleams.
"Why," replied Mrs. Ladybug, "the train would strike you and be wrecked. You see," she continued, "I have everything planned for you. You're going to spend your nights on the railroad tracks, signalling the trains."
Well, Freddie Firefly rather liked Mrs. Ladybug's idea. And though he knew that she was mistaken about some things, he began to think that perhaps she was quite wise, after all.
"Aren't you afraid I might set fire to the trains?" he inquired slyly.
"No, indeed!" she answered. "You'd stop them, you know, before they ran over you."
"But I don't know how to make a train stop," he objected. "I've never worked on a railroad in all my life."
"Why, it's simple enough," said little Mrs. Ladybug. "When a train came along you would stand on the track right in front of it and wave your light." And while she smiled at Freddie Firefly as if to say, "You see how easy it is," she dropped six more stitches out of her knitting—and never found them, either.
Freddie Firefly, however, did not smile at all. On the contrary, he looked somewhat worried.
"Are you sure it's safe?" he asked her. "If the train failed to stop, with me on the track in front of it—"
"Don't worry about that!" cried little Mrs. Ladybug. "You'll never amount to anything if you worry. And if you don't wish to fritter away your time dancing in this meadow, you'll take my advice and begin to work at once."
"I'll think about the matter," said Freddie Firefly. And then he added somewhat doubtfully: "It's a long way to the railroad."
"Pooh!" Mrs. Ladybug exclaimed. "Old Mr. Crow often visits it. And if he can fly that far, at his age, a youngster like you ought not to mind the trip."
"Perhaps you know best," Freddie Firefly told Mrs. Ladybug at last."I'll take your advice just this once, and I'll see how I like the work.But there's another question I'd like to ask you: What will the trainsdo after they stop?"
While laughing over Freddie's question Mrs. Ladybug shook so hard that she unravelled sixteen rows of her knitting before she could stop.
"Bless you!" she cried, as soon as she could speak. "I don't know what the trains will do. That's their affair—not yours nor mine. Everybody's aware that trains are made for two purposes—to start and to stop. But I never should think of being so rude as to ask them WHY, or WHAT, or WHEN, or WHERE."
So Freddie Firefly thanked Mrs. Ladybug most politely. He was sure, now, that she was one of the wisest persons in the whole valley. No doubt, he thought, she knew almost as much as old Mr. Crow, or even Solomon Owl. And he wished he knew half what she did.
"I'll start for the railroad track at once," Freddie told Mrs. Ladybug. And waving his cap at her, while she waved her knitting at him, he set forth towards the village, the lights of which twinkled dimly in the distance.
Freddie Firefly did not intend to go into the village itself. He expected to travel only as far as the railroad tracks, where they curved around a bend in the river before stretching straight away towards the town.
Though he spent a much longer time in making the journey than old Mr. Crow ever took, Freddie at last reached the railroad, where he promptly sat himself down between the rails to wait for a train. And there Freddie Firefly stayed all alone, in the dark, with nothing to keep from feeling forlorn except the croaking of a band of noisy frogs in a pool near-by.
After a while Freddie began to grow so weary of his new task that he wished he had never taken Mrs. Ladybug's advice.
"I don't believe I like working," he said with a sigh, as he thought of the good time his family was having at that very moment, dancing in Farmer Green's meadow.
And then all at once he heard a faint whistle, far off down the valley. And a little later a low rumble caught his ear—a rumble which grew louder and louder until at last it turned into a roar, just as a stream of light shot around the curve in the track ahead of him, which followed the bend of the river.
Freddie Firefly was startled. He couldn't think what made that long lane of light. And he was about to jump into the bushes and hide when he saw all at once that it was exactly what he had been waiting for.
"It's a train!" he cried aloud. And he began flashing his light bravely while he swayed from side to side, for Mrs. Ladybug had told him that he must swing his light—if he expected to stop the train.
And all the while the train tore on towards Freddie Firefly. To his great surprise it showed not the slightest sign of stopping. And in spite of what Mrs. Ladybug had said, Freddie Firefly began to be afraid that it wasn't going to pause at all.
He soon saw that if he did not do something quickly the train would run over him. But by the time he had made up his mind to jump off the track, out of harm's way, it was too late for him to escape in that fashion.
So Freddie Firefly crawled hurriedly into a chink beneath the railroad tie on which he had been sitting. And with a horrible scream the train thundered over him. To Freddie's dismay it paid no heed to his flashing light, though he thought it must surely have seen that signal.
Those were terrible moments for Freddie Firefly, while the train was passing above him. The frightful noise, the trembling of the ground, the rush of the air—all those things made him wonder whether he could ever reach home again, alive and unharmed. He was even more scared than he had been when he found himself in the power of that dreadful creature, Jennie Junebug.
Even after the train had rushed shrieking into the village two miles away, and the echoes had grown still, Freddie Firefly cowered in his hiding-place on the railroad track, crouched in the chink beneath one of the ties.
At last he crept out, trembling in every limb. But in spite of his terror he skipped off the track very spryly.
Safe at one side of the rails, which gleamed in the moonlight, Freddie felt himself all over, to make sure that he had broken no bones.
"I seem to be unhurt," he mused. "But never, never again will I listen to anything that Mrs. Ladybug says."
And having made himself that solemn promise, he hurried away towardFarmer Green's meadow, which he reached just before dawn.
As he crossed the fields he thought that he smelled smoke. But he couldn't see a blaze anywhere. And when he came to the meadow he was so eager to dance that he forgot to ask anybody if there had been a fire.
Luckily he arrived in time to take part in the last dance of the night. And after the dance was over he astonished all his family with the strange tale that he told them.
Before going to their homes all Freddie's relations gathered around him to listen to his story of the night's adventure. And there were many "Ohs" and "Ahs" when he reached the point where the train ran over him.
"You're lucky you didn't have a leg cut off," his favorite cousin remarked, "though that wouldn't have been so bad as losing a wing."
Freddie Firefly shuddered.
"Anyway, you're better off than Mrs. Ladybug is," somebody piped up.
"Why, what's happened to her?" Freddie Firefly inquired.
"Haven't you heard?" several of his cousins cried.
"No! no!" he shouted.
"Her house caught fire to-night, while she was away from home," they explained.
"I thought I smelled smoke as I was coming back from the railroad,"Freddie observed. And then a sad picture came into his mind.
"And Mrs. Lady bug's children—" he began breathlessly.
"Oh! The neighbors saved them," his favorite cousin said. "They're only slightly scorched. But their ma's house is ruined."
Then, to everybody's great surprise, Freddie Firefly began to dance up and down and sing with joy.
"Oh, I'm so glad! Oh, I'm so glad!" he chanted over and over again.
His relations could scarcely believe that he was quite himself.
"His fright on the railroad must have injured his mind," they said to one another. "Or perhaps the train ran over his head when he didn't know it." They could think of no other reason for Freddie's queer actions. Always before he had seemed too kind-hearted to rejoice over another person's ill luck.
"What do you mean?" three hundred voices shouted. "Why are you glad?"
"I'm glad I tried to stop the train," Freddie Firefly answered, "because now Mrs. Ladybug can't say that I set her house on fire. She knows that I was working on the railroad to-night. And nobody can be in two places at the same time."
End of Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Freddie Firefly, by Arthur Scott Bailey