Part 9 (1/2)

To everybody's surprise, Mrs. Ladybug appeared to want to keep the site of her house a secret from all her friends. When they asked her, point-blank, where her house was, she always pretended not to hear the question and left them. Or she would begin to ask questions of her own choosing, without answering theirs.

”Humph!” said some people. ”Mrs. Ladybug likes to pry into our affairs.

She wants to know all about our business. And when she learns anything about anybody else she can't rest until she has told it to the whole neighborhood.”

The more Mrs. Ladybug's friends thought about her house, the harder they tried to discover its whereabouts. Sometimes they even mentioned _fire_ to her and then tried to follow her when she hurried off. But she always managed to give them the slip before she had gone far.

Now and then somebody or other thought he had found Mrs. Ladybug's house. But in the end somebody else was sure to prove that he was mistaken.

Once Freddie Firefly announced with great pride that at last he knew where Mrs. Ladybug was rearing her family.

”Her house,” he explained, ”is in a hole in the ground, in the meadow.”

And that night he led Miss Mehitable Moth to the spot, lighting the way with his flickering gleams.

She soon pointed out his mistake. He had led her to the doorway of the b.u.mblebee family, who were all sound asleep inside their crowded house.

After that Freddie Firefly had to listen to a good many t.i.tters from his friends.

”The idea!” they would say. ”Mrs. Ladybug must have a much bigger house than the b.u.mblebee family's. She couldn't squeeze her children into such small quarters as theirs. Why, she has more children than she can count.”

XIX

THE DINNER BELL

THERE was great excitement in Farmer Green's orchard. The neighbors came a-flying and a-running and a-crawling from all directions. And little Mrs. Ladybug was the cause of the hurly-burly. She had appeared with a strange, flaring object hanging by a cord from her waist--if she could be said to have a waist. The queer, dangling thing had a handle at its upper end. And when Mrs. Ladybug moved a jingling, jangling sound might have been heard.

In no time at all a crowd had gathered around her. And some of the more curious and ill-bred pointed at whatever it was that puzzled them.

”What's that?” they asked Mrs. Ladybug.

Strange to say, she seemed pleased with the stir that she had made.

”It's a dinner bell,” she explained.

They gazed at it in wonder, until at last somebody spoke up and demanded, ”What's it for?”

”To give the alarm with!” she replied.

”What alarm?” chimed a chorus of voices, high and low.

Mrs. Ladybug smiled an odd sort of smile as she answered, ”The fire alarm, of course! Everybody's always talking _fire_ to me. It makes me frightfully uneasy. There's so little one can do alone in case of fire.

But now--” she added--”now when anyone says 'Fire!' I'm going to ring this bell with all my might.”

Well, people didn't know what to say--then. Later, however, they gathered about in groups and talked a good deal about Mrs. Ladybug and her dinner bell.

Miss Moth said that she feared Mrs. Ladybug would disturb her rest if she rang the bell in the daytime, when Miss Moth was accustomed to sleep. Buster b.u.mblebee hoped Mrs. Ladybug wouldn't ring it at night, because he had a short enough night's sleep as it was, with the family trumpeter waking everybody in the house about dawn. And Freddie Firefly exclaimed that it would be very annoying to him if Mrs. Ladybug gave the alarm of fire whenever she saw his flickering gleams on pleasant evenings in the meadow.