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Toadie Todson swelled with pride as the green inch-worm went measuring up and down, up and down his back. The Busy Bee just then flew buzzing by and buzzed to Toadie as he went: "There's a sand-slide rolling down this way. I'm getting out's fast as I can." When the Bee said sand-slide it sounded just like "Sz-sz-sz z-z-z-z ide."
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.
And the Cricket, although his house was out of doors under a big green oak leaf that had dropped to the ground, was busy piling up all the food he could find for Mrs. Cricky to guard while she nursed the three little Cricketses. Toadie Todson was tired to see so much going on. He wished they would all be quiet and stop hurrying around.
The spring had just come, that much Toadie Todson knew, and all these neighbors were busy putting their houses in order. Well, the Bee was stocking his honeycomb house, the Ant was putting her summer pantry into order and filling it with cookies, cream cheese, cake, and honey that her Majesty, the Queen Bee, sent over every day.
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.
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.
It pleased her so much that she tried to sing it again to Father Cricky for the Marsh Grass Vesper Quartette. Of course it was all about Toadie Todson, and this was it: A Lament Very slowly Mournful, mournful notes, In our little throats we sing Flowers, flowers dead, For our Toadie's head we bring
Cricky always called that kind of anger in Mr. Cricky "righteous indignation." Peace was soon restored, however, as Mr. Tree Toad Todson, very much of a gentleman at heart, was most anxious to ask pardon for this display of temper. But we have spent too much time in discussing the lullabye and the trouble it brought Mrs. Frisky. The concert began.
Then his master, Toadie Todson, with whom he at least had a lazy time, was killed in a sand slide. And now he spent all his days at work for Stingy, who was a very exacting master. If he so much as stopped to nibble a little from a tender green birch leaf, Stingy would fly at him and bid him go to work at once.
The Quartette always gathered here about dusk upon a broad flat toad-stool which grew at the foot of a spreading oak. Mr. Tree Toad Todson had leased this toad-stool for the summer season from his first cousin, the unfortunate Toadie Todson.
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