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Dismounting, she threw the reins over Cricket's head and allowed him to nibble at the sweet grass. Yes, there were the mandrakes with their finger-shaped leaves. And they were turning yellow. Dorothy gathered a few, then stood up to look about her. "The bandit!" she gasped in a whisper. He had his hand on Cricket's rein! "Drop that!" she shouted. "You need not think I am afraid of you now!"
I finally did what all persons before me have done, clear back to Adam, resolved to throw something. I reached down and got my walking-shoes, then sat up in bed and listened, in order to exactly locate the noise. But I couldn't do it; it was as unlocatable as a cricket's noise; and where one thinks that that is, is always the very place where it isn't.
Somehow it seemed to make him feel especially lively. People who wanted to be disagreeable were always remarking in Chirpy Cricket's hearing that they hoped there would be an early frost. They thought of course he would know they were tired of his music and wished he would keep still. But such speeches only made him fiddle the faster. "An early frost!" he would exclaim.
The two refreshed themselves in the intervals of business with sundry glasses of lemonade, and occasional "peanits," while every now and then a piece of a red or of a striped peppermint found its way down Cricket's throat. Billy scrupulously paid for all he ate. By supper-time nearly everything had disappeared.
Will had also been getting rid of some of the superfluous water, but a boy's sailing dress is so beautifully simple that a wetting more or less does not matter. He took off his stockings, and hung them over the boom to dry, and presently Cricket's dress and petticoats fluttered beside them. "Regular canal-boat style.
Hilda sat looking on in dumb amazement. She was so accustomed to feeling a little superior to Cricket, on account of her orderliness and generally good behaviour, that she was struck with surprise at the old woman's joy over seeing her little friend, while she sat by unnoticed. She did not know how many a laugh and pleasant hour the stories of Cricket's mishaps had given the lonely old woman.
And at last, Edna, with a groan, promised she would at least try. For the next few days, the three girls were never seen without the accompaniment of blank books and pencils. The blank books were Cricket's idea. She said that they could carry around blank books with them, and write whenever they thought of anything to say.
Mole Cricket were bound to have trouble if they saw too much of each other. So he hinted in a delicate way that Mr. Mole Cricket's wife must be wondering where he was. Thereupon that gentleman started up hurriedly and made for his tunnel. "I'll see you again sometime," he said hastily over his shoulder. And in another instant he was gone. They never met again.
"Hush!" said Kernel Cob, "I hear the chirping of a Cricket," for his ears were quicker to hear than either Sweetclover's or the Cricket's. And sure enough you could now hear the chirping.... "Crick-a-crick-a-crick," and the Cricket pricked up his ears and held up a foot to warn them to keep silence. "I'm sorry to tell you," he said as the chirping stopped, "that they are not here."
Every pulse-beat is in exact time with the cricket's chant and the tickings of the deathwatch in the wall. Alternate with these if you can. About two hundred and eighty birds either reside permanently in the State, or spend the summer only, or make us a passing visit. Those which spend the winter with us have obtained our warmest sympathy.
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