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Cricky brought home the food, but he was a member of the Marsh Grass Vesper Quartette made up of himself, Miss K. T. Did, Mr. Frisky Frog and Mr. Tree Toad Todson, first cousin to Toadie Todson and they had all been out very late the night before, so Mrs. Cricky didn't wish to disturb him. At last Mrs. Cricky found what she wanted, and home she came.
Ish dot true you patch your breeches mit second-hand scalps you puy in Montreal? Vat you vas doing down here, Tim Murphy? Oh, joost look at dem devils of Morgan! Sure, Emelius, dey joost come so soon as ve go. Ya! Dey come to kiss our girls, py cricky! Uf I catch you round my girl alretty, Dave Elerson " "Silence! Silence in the ranks!" sang out an officer, riding up.
Chirp and Chee and Chirk were fed, and then it was time to begin school. Mrs. Cricky always taught her own children. She had rented three little toad-stools, not any bigger than tacks, from Toadie Todson, and these the children used for desks. She often said that she thought round-top desks better than flat, for then the children were not so likely to lean their elbows on them.
"For raising volunteers for the reduction of the Spanish posts on the Mississippi, for opening the trade of the said river and giving freedom to all its inhabitants " I had got so far when I heard a noise of footsteps within, and Mr. Easton himself came out, in his shirt-sleeves. "By cricky, Davy," said he, "I'm right glad ter see ye ag'in. Readin' the General's bill, are ye?
Her dress was disordered, her hair hung in loosened coils, her collar was half torn off by the wind, but the happy smile and the justifiable pride in her success lighted up her countenance till it was fairly radiant. "By cricky, you're stunning!" exclaimed Phil, under his breath, as he grasped her hand in congratulation.
Wot'd I come to sea fer an' this 'ere go is the worst I ever knew a baoat no bigger'n a bally bath-tub, head seas, livin' gyles the clock 'round, wet food, wet clothes, wet bunks. Caold till, by cricky! I've lost the feel o' mee feet. An' wat for? For the bloomin' good chanst o' a slug in mee guts. That's wat for."
The green inch-worm began to bore its way out of the sand; it could hear Toadie Todson groaning and saying: "O! O! I wish I'd never been so lazy. I might have lived an' been as happy and rich as the Bee or the Ant. And the green inch-worm knew that Toadie Todson was dead. Not more than six hours after this Mrs. Cricky overheard the green inch-worm practising a tune.
There were no clapping hands, but rather the beating of wings, the enthusiastic croaking from various kinds of little red throats, and the flash-flash of lights from the Fire-Flies and Glow-Worms. Mr. Cricky in writing it up for the June Bug Journal pronounced it the success of the season. We will close with a few stanzas of "There's Dreamland Coming."
"Let me count! One, two, three, four, five, six, and you and I, Miles, make eight. But where are Roger and Hilda?" "Out in the Cheemaun!" was the reply in chorus. There was a general exclamation of dismay, then each one commented in his fashion. "Cricky!" said Phil. "The Professor will have a great chance for meteoro-lolli-lolli-logical observations, won't he?"
This was a great honor and ever afterward Sandy served the King; and Anty Hill, who became Lady Hill, lived with him at the court. That night Mrs. Cricky told all the little Cricketses she hoped they would remember Sandy's honor, and that if they helped other people they, too, might be honored some day.
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