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Updated: June 3, 2025
For the dormouse, one tiny penetrating note dominated all. He knew that the singer of that note was four-footed. Have you ever heard a cricket's serenade? It was something like that. Have you ever heard a tree-creeper talking to itself? It was something like that also. He looked down and saw, as he expected, a round fur ball rolling in and out the grass-stems. At times the ball sat up and sniffed.
He sank farther and farther down and looked up into the tree and ceased his song, chirping instead a stuttering falsetto trill, not unlike a cricket's, holding his breath as long as he could to draw it out to its finest strand; and thus with his head on his arm and his arm on the tree root, he fell asleep. The noon sun was on his legs when he awoke, and a strange dog was sniffing at him.
"Yer favour yer ma, I see," said Marm Plunkett, still holding Cricket's sleeve. "Dear! dear! she was a pretty one, that she was! You've got shiny eyes like her'n, but yer hair's a mite darker, ain't it? My! ain't them curls harndsome!" touching very gently one of the soft rings of Cricket's short hair.
Miss Snodgrass seemed to repress a smile. Here, however, the little girl at Laura's side chimed in. "I think cricket's awful rot," she announced, in a cheepy voice. Now what was it, Laura asked herself, in these words, or in the tone in which they were said, that at once riveted the boy's attention. For he laughed quite briskly as he asked; "What's a kid like you know about it?"
And soon they arrived at the shoe shop, in front of which they found Jimmy Rabbit all smiles and bows. "Here's a friend of mine who needs some new shoes," Chirpy Cricket announced. "Come right in!" cried Jimmy Rabbit. "Any friend of Chirpy Cricket's is a friend of mine too. And if I can't fit your feet with shoes it won't be my fault. Only yesterday I sold a pair of shoes to old Mr. Crow.
At critical moments, the cover of a dead leaf provides him with a temporary shelter. In the end, the burrow, the permanent dwelling, is dug as the inclement season draws nigh. The Lycosa shares the Cricket's views: like him, she finds a thousand pleasures in the vagabond life. With September comes the nuptial badge, the black-velvet bib.
Somers, in greatest surprise. "How did you manage to fall and sprain your ankle on this perfectly level ground?" "It's rather humiliating to confess that I was wrestling with my granddaughter, and that she got the best of me," returned grandma, patting Cricket's hand. "It's my first and last pugilistic performance." "It's my fault," burst out Cricket, "and I ought to be put in jail.
"Then Râjah Rasâlu stood aghast; but he thought of the cricket's gift at last, and taking it out of his pocket thrust it into the fire, and a cloud as dust showed in the sky and the distant whirr of thousands of wings caused the air to stir, as, dark'ning the day like a fun'ral pall, a flight of crickets appeared at the call. 'What is our task? asked his friend with a laugh; 'only that?
"I should think anyone would be mighty glad of a chance to come to school over here instead of in America! Why, you don't even play cricket over there, I've been told!" "No, but we play baseball," said Harry, his eyes shining. "I really think I miss that more than anything else here in England. Cricket's all right if you can't play baseball. It's a good enough game."
197 By touching you may kill, by keeping away you may possess. 198 The cricket's chirp and the patter of rain come to me through the dark, like the rustle of dreams from my past youth. 199 "I have lost my dewdrop," cries the flower to the morning sky that has lost all its stars. 200 The burning log bursts in flame and cries, "This is my flower, my death."
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