Part 3 (2/2)

Whatever or whoever it was that had entered Chirpy Cricket's home--the hole in the ground near Farmer Green's barn--it caused him a terrible fright. It kept poking him in a most alarming fas.h.i.+on. Chirpy couldn't move away from it, for his home was only big enough for himself alone.

And since he didn't care to share it with another, he soon made up his mind that there was only one thing for him to do. He would quit his house for the time being, with the hope of finding it empty later. Indeed Chirpy Cricket thought he would be lucky to escape in safety. So he scrambled up into the daylight, to be greeted with a shout and a pounce, both at the same time. And Chirpy Cricket saw, too late, that it was a creature much bigger than a hen that had captured him. It was Johnnie Green!

Of course Johnnie himself had not entered Chirpy's underground home. What he had done was merely to run a straw into the hole where Chirpy lived and prod him with it until he came out.

”Aha!” said Johnnie Green as he looked at his prisoner, whom he held gingerly between a finger and a thumb. ”Are you the rascal that keeps me awake at night with your everlasting noise?”

Chirpy Cricket never said a word.

”You make racket enough every night,” Johnnie told him. ”Can't you answer now when you're spoken to?”

Still Chirpy Cricket made no reply. He waved his feelers frantically and tried to jump out of Johnnie Green's grasp. But no matter how fast he moved his six legs, he couldn't get away.

”You don't seem to like me,” said his captor finally. ”You don't act as if you wanted to play with me.... What will you do for me if I let you go?”

But not a word did Chirpy Cricket say--not one single word!

”You're a queer one,” Johnnie Green told him. ”You might fiddle for me, at least--though I must say I don't care for the tune you always play. I can get better music out of a cornstalk fiddle than I've ever heard from you or any of your family.”

Then, very carefully, Johnnie set Chirpy Cricket on the ground, with both his hands cupped closely over him, so he couldn't jump away.

”Now, fiddle!” Johnnie Green cried. ”Fiddle just once and I'll let you go.”

Though Johnnie Green waited patiently for what seemed to him a long time, he heard nothing that sounded the least bit like fiddling. So at last he peeped between two fingers to see what the fiddler was doing. But Johnnie Green couldn't see him. Little by little he lifted his hands. And to his great surprise there was nothing under them but gra.s.s--and beneath the gra.s.s a crack in the earth.

”Well! You're a sly one!” Johnnie Green exclaimed. ”You've crawled into that crack. And you may stay there, too, for all I care.” Johnnie jumped to his feet and moved away. And not until he had been gone some time did Chirpy Cricket make a sound. Then he played a few notes on his fiddle, just to see that it hadn't been harmed.

XI

A QUEER, NEW COUSIN

Chirpy Cricket was so fond of fiddling that sometimes he was the last of all the big Cricket family to stop making music and go home to bed. Now and then he lingered so long above the ground that the dawn caught him before he crept into his hole in the ground, beneath the straw. And one morning it was getting so light before he had played enough to suit him that he crawled into a crack in Farmer Green's garden. It looked like a comfortable place to spend the day. And he thought it would be foolish for him to do much travelling at that hour, because there was no telling when an early bird might spy--and pounce upon--him.

He found his retreat quite to his liking. Nothing had happened to disturb his rest. And if he had only had time to carry a few blades of gra.s.s into the crack, to eat between naps, Chirpy would have had nothing to wish for.

Late in the afternoon, however, a most unusual thing took place. Chirpy Cricket noticed a sound as of some one digging. It grew louder and louder as he listened. And it was not in the least like the scratching of a hen, looking for grubs and worms. This noise was deep down in the ground and like nothing Chirpy had ever heard.

He wished that he had not allowed himself to become so fond of fiddling.

If he had cared less for it, he would have gone home in good season. But there he was in a crack in the garden! And he didn't dare leave it because he had heard that the garden was a famous place for birds.

Chirpy Cricket was frightened. And when at last the loose earth near him began to quiver and even to crumble he was so scared that he didn't know which way to move. The next instant a strange looking person stood before him. And for a few moments neither one of them said a word.

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