The Butterfly's Ball and the Grasshopper's Feast Part 2

"Now," said the lively young Cricket, stopping, "can you laugh?"

"What?" said the little Glow-worm smiling, and, of course, lighting up.

"Yes, that's it, smile away; but do it harder. I want you to laugh outright. Can't you _laugh_?"

"Oh yes, when there is anything to laugh at."

"Well, do it now."

"But I can't, please."

"No; then I'll make you."

So saying, the young Cricket seized the little Glow-worm round the waist and tickled her.

Of course she laughed at first, and, to the Cricket's delight, her face became wonderfully bright for a moment; but suddenly it became dim, for he hurt her, and she began to cry.

"You rascal!" exclaimed an angry voice, as the Gra.s.shopper gave the Cricket a kick that sent him head over heels into the gra.s.s; "I felt sure you were after mischief, and I was right."

"Oh, _please_, don't kick him," pleaded the little Glow-worm. "He didn't mean to hurt me."

"No matter. Get up, sir, and beg her pardon."

The young Cricket got up at once and did what he was bid, for he really did not mean mischief, and was sorry he had hurt her; and little Miss Glow-worm rewarded him with a smile so radiant that it illuminated the spot where they stood quite brilliantly, and sparkled through her tears with rainbow hues.

"Now I would laugh to please you if I could," said Miss Glow-worm, again smiling.

"Oh, never mind, my dear. I'll make you and all your kindred laugh before the ball is over," said the lively young Cricket, hurrying away, and going straight up to the Scotch Bee, who was clad in a tartan plaid and kilt.

"Bee," said the Cricket, "can you dance the Highland Fling?"

"Ay, she can do that."

"I could show you a better fling than the Highland one," said the Cricket.

"Ho! could ye? ye must be verra cliver. Wull ye let her see't?"

"Yes, if you'll dance the Highland fling first? Will you do it if Mrs b.u.t.terfly asks you?"

The Scotch Bee good-naturedly agreed. Of course, the Cricket had no difficulty in persuading the hostess to ask him. The musicians could not play a reel; but this mattered not, for the Bee could hum to himself. Great was the delight and surprise of the company when they beheld the Scotch Bee twirling his legs, snapping his fingers, and humming the reel of Tulloch, while the tartans fluttered round him like shreds of a shattered rainbow.

The dance waxed more and more furious, and the plaudits of the company grew louder, when, suddenly, the lively young Cricket ran in between the Bee's legs, tripped him up, and sent him sprawling on the gra.s.s. A wild shout of laughter burst from the company--Glow-worms included--and the ball-room brightened up for a few moments as if it had been set on fire!

"That's the fling I spoke of," cried the Cricket, leaping up and running away.

The Scotch Bee sprang up, drew his dirk, and gave chase, but Mr Gra.s.shopper caught him by the arm and dragged him off.

"Ho! friends--supper--supper! This way. Don't sheathe your dirk. I have a haggis ready for you to sheathe it in. Come along; give your arm to that bloated old Spider there. She'll keep you in spirits."

The Bee was mollified. He gave his arm to the Spider; then all the company went off to sup in a neighbouring glade. Shall we describe the supper? We think not. It was beyond description delightful. Just as it was finished the moon rose from behind a cloud, so the company knew that it was time to go home.

Before going away, they all a.s.sembled at the foot of the oak, and shook claws with Lady b.u.t.terfly and Mr Gra.s.shopper, saying that they were charmed with the delightful evening they had spent, and that they hoped to be soon invited again.

In a few minutes they were all gone. The sounds of their laughing voices, as they returned home, died gradually away, and the shadows of night spread over the quiet forest and the happy little creatures that slumbered there.