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And yet, odd as the stranger was, Chirpy could not help noticing that somehow he had a look like the Cricket family. "Well," said the stranger at last, "you seem surprised. Perhaps you weren't expecting callers." "No, I wasn't," Chirpy Cricket answered in a voice that was faint from the fright he had had. "But you're glad to see me, I hope," the stranger went on. "You know I'm related to you.
"Perhaps you play some instrument yourself," Chirpy observed. But Mr. Meadow Mouse shook his head. "No!" he replied. "No! To tell the truth, I haven't much time for that sort of thing. Besides, it seems to me somewhat dangerous. I was wondering, while I watched you, whether you weren't likely to fiddle yourself into bits you were working so hard."
"You oughtn't to blame Freddie Firefly for not loaning his light," she said. "You know you wouldn't let him take your fiddle." Well, Chirpy Cricket hadn't thought of that. And he had to admit that what she said was true. And just then the sun peeped over Blue Mountain. So everybody hurried home alone, after all. There were enough night noises before Chirpy Cricket came to live in the farmyard.
He couldn't have got up a tree if he had tried. "Aren't you afraid of falling off that lily-pad into the water?" Chirpy asked his new friend. "It seems to me you haven't picked out a safe place at all." He had scarcely finished speaking when he had a great fright. For Mr. Cricket Frog did not answer him. Instead he leaped suddenly into the air.
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 grass into the crack, to eat between naps, Chirpy would have had nothing to wish for.
That's true an' I know it's true too because she's been askin' an' askin' me to have it done an' I said not by no means so she's left off." "Did ?" asked Mrs. Lathrop. "The Jilkinses is real mad over the paper, too," Susan continued. "Seems as Elijah went an' called 'em the 'Chirpy Cherry Ponders, an' Mrs.
Mole Cricket talked quite pleasantly, for all he looked so frightful. When he dug his way through the dirt in Farmer Green's garden and broke into the crack where Chirpy was hiding he had given Chirpy a terrible start. "If you're a cousin of mine as you say it's strange that I've never happened to meet you before," Chirpy told the newcomer. "Not at all! Not at all!" Mr. Mole Cricket said.
Chirpy couldn't see clearly who he was, coming up out of the darkness as he had. But he was glad there was somebody to talk to, anyhow. "Good morning!" he greeted the person on the clover-top, adding in a lower tone, "They're a queer family those Bumblebees!" To his great dismay, the person to whom he had spoken began to buzz.
And anybody can see that he's annoying Betsy Butterfly. I tell you, I want him chased away from here at once. For I'm of royal blood; and I'm not accustomed to go to parties with ragtags and bobtails. I'm a cousin of Buster Bumblebee, the Queen's son." Well, Chirpy Cricket tried hard not to laugh right in Joseph Bumble's face. "I'll see what I can do," Chirpy promised him.
'Oh, I 'ave got sich a 'ead on me this mornin'! she remarked, turning round a pale face: heavily lined under the eyes. 'I don't feel too chirpy neither, said Liza, sympathetically. 'I wish I 'adn't drunk so much beer, added Sally, as a pang shot through her head. 'Oh, you'll be arright in a bit, said Liza.