Part 8 (2/2)

”There!” he said, when he had settled himself in the tree once more. ”If you think you can teach me to perform better, just try that trick yourself!”

But Chirpy Cricket said that he was sure Mr. Nighthawk's performance couldn't be bettered by anybody. And he remarked that the noise reminded him of a high wind coming on top of a thunder storm.

That pleased Mr. Nighthawk.

”It's the greatest praise I've ever had!” he declared. And before Chirpy Cricket knew what had happened, Mr. Nighthawk had flown away.

Chirpy often wondered why he left so suddenly. The truth was that Mr.

Nighthawk had hurried back to the woods to tell his wife what Chirpy Cricket had said to him. And ever afterward he was fond of repeating Chirpy's remark, in a boasting way, until his neighbors were heartily tired of hearing it.

XXII

HARMLESS MR. MEADOW MOUSE

One night when Chirpy Cricket was fiddling his prettiest, not far from the fence between the farmyard and the meadow, he had a queer feeling, as if somebody were gazing at him. And glancing up quickly, he saw that a plump person sat on a fence-rail, busily engaged in staring at him.

”How-dy do!” Chirpy Cricket piped; for the fat, four-legged person looked both cheerful and harmless. ”I take it you're fond of music.”

The stranger, whose name was Mr. Meadow Mouse, smiled. ”I won't dispute your statement,” he said.

”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.”

Chirpy Cricket a.s.sured him that there wasn't the least danger.

”All my family are famous fiddlers,” he said. ”And I've never heard of such an accident happening to any of them.”

Mr. Meadow Mouse appeared to be slightly disappointed.

”I thought,” he said, ”I could pick up the pieces for you, in case you fell apart.”

Dark as he was, Chirpy Cricket almost turned pale.

”You--you weren't intending to--to swallow the pieces, were you?” he stammered.

”Dear me! No!” Mr. Meadow Mouse gasped. ”I'm what's known as a vegetarian.”

Well, when he heard that, Chirpy Cricket made ready to jump out of the stranger's way. He didn't know what a vegetarian was; but it sounded terrible to him.

Mr. Meadow Mouse must have guessed that Chirpy was uneasy. Anyhow, he hastened to explain that a vegetarian was one that ate only food that grew on plants of one kind or another.

<script>