been listening for some time till I could be sure what made the funny
noise. Then I found it was your teeth. Now, look here! There never was
anything more wonderful than Night in all the world, and never will be.
It can’t hurt you a bit, but because nobody who is as afraid as you
are, ever can be reasoned into thinking so, I will give you a pass to
keep in sight wherever you go.”
“What is that?” asked Anthony.
“Here it is,” said the August Croaker, holding out a slip of grass
blade with queer marks on it. “A pass is something that you show and it
takes you in free at a show. Now Night is a wonderful show. This is a
pass to carry with you, and it will take you safely through any hour
of the Night without letting a thing hurt you. It makes you go free of
scares, you see. So long as you keep it in plain sight, you are all
right. Try it.”
“Oh, thank you!” cried Anthony Ant, as he fastened the pass under the
strap of his dressing case. And the minute the pass was in place he
felt as brave as a large Lion, Size Eighty-one.
“Now,” said the August Croaker, “lie right down where you are. Even
if there should be a whole menagerie behind you in the shadows of
the stone, not a thing can hurt you. The words on the pass will see
to that. Go to sleep now while I sing you my best lullaby on the G
string.” And he began a soft “G,G,G,G,G,G,G,” with a sort of trill in
it, that was most soothing.
“What are the words on the pass?” asked Anthony Ant sleepily.
“They are written in Japanese style, sort of,” said the August Croaker.
“That is, you have to read them up and down instead of across, and they
say:
+--------------------------+
| T A T F |
| H N H R |
| I T R E |
| S H O E |
| O U |
| I N G F |
| S Y H R |
| O |
| T A A M |
| O N N |
| T Y H |
| P A |
| A N R |
| S I M |
| S G |
| H |
| T |
+--------------------------+
AN ANT VENTURE IN GOING UP
“Oh, my, but what a lovely dream I had!” cried the Ant the next morning
as he woke up bright and early. He thought he was still talking to the
August Croaker, but found he was alone after all, as the August Croaker
had gone off to take his sleep because he was on night duty, you see,
every night.
There was the pass, anyway, Anthony Ant saw as he gathered his things
together and came out from under the stone. He took his morning bath in
dewdrops, and, smelling sweet from the scent of the Marsh-Mint Dental
Cream and the Meadow-Scent Soap, he perched himself on a low grass
blade and ate some of the luncheon in his basket. As he intended taking
a long tramp on his way that morning, he even ate a small piece of the
Bug he had run away with, for, though at home he did not eat meat for
breakfast, he knew that for a long, hard tramp there was nothing like
meat to give one strength.
Then, when all ready for the march, he looked at the sun to be sure
he was starting in the right pathway, and off he went over a blade
and under a blade; over a stone and across a plain space; and under a
stick; and up a weed; and down a branch of the weed to another weed;
and on to a daisy and down the daisy; and along a leaf to the tip;
and over to a clover stem; and up the clover stem; and over to a high
grass; and along the high grass to a bush; and down the bush to the
ground; and along the ground to a rock; and up the rock and over the
rock and down the rock; and across a dandelion; and up a burdock; and
on to a big bowlder and over the big bowlder and down the big bowlder;
and up a high goldenrod to the top; and over to another goldenrod top;
and down that goldenrod stem to the ground; and along the ground to
a berry bush. My, but that was a long tramp to take without a rest
between times!
As long a tramp as that was, he was not too tired to climb the bush
when all at once he saw a berry above his head, high up ever so far.
Up he went hard and fast, for nothing would taste so good that very
minute as some berry juice, he thought. So up the bush went Anthony Ant
of Ant-Hill Manor until he came to the branch that had the berry on
it--and, oh me, oh my! Sometimes things are better than they seem to
be, just as sometimes things are not so bad as they look. Why! Not only
was there one berry on that branch, but under some leaves, hidden from
his first glance, were more berries--just loads of them--and they were
even more juicy than the berry he went up the bush to get!
Well, sir, Anthony Ant danced a jig of joy on a leaf before he
tasted a berry at all. Then he sat down--where do you think?--not
near a berry--no, sir-ee!--but on it, for the berry was a large, fat
blackberry with plenty of room on top for more than one Ant. He was the
only one there, so all the room was his. All he had to do was to sit
there on the firm, smooth, warm berry heated from the sun to the very
core, and bite into one of the pulpy balls that covered the seeds of
the berry. So up he climbed to the top of the berry, and, for fear he
might lose his things, he strapped them to his belt instead of setting
them down anywhere. A lucky thing it was, for no sooner had he begun
to bite into the berry, and to think how lovely that juice was, than
all at once something pounced down to the bush while he had his nose to
the berry and could not look up so well. The next thing he knew, he was
being carried through the air at a great rate--berry and all--until he
was plumped down upon the wide branch of a great tree ever so far away
from the berry bush.
If the Ant had been scared by such a harmless thing as Night, he was
about twenty million more times scared now that this thing had happened
to him. Besides, whatever it was that had carried him to the tree had
so nipped into the berry that the juice had spattered all over poor
Anthony Ant, and he was sticky from head to foot. However, he stayed
perfectly still without moving the fraction of an inch. He was afraid
the thing that had carried him there would eat him if he so much as
wiggled a feeler.
[Illustration: _The Robin was wondering what to do about Anthony Ant_]
After what seemed to him a long time he opened one eye he had closed,
and there he saw a large Robin looking at him. Now, Robins like Worms,
but they do not care for Ants, and the Robin was wondering what to do
about Anthony Ant. Just now berry was the taste he was after, and here
was Mr. Ant in the way.
Anthony Ant saw that look in the Robin’s eye, so he knew it was time to
move. As fast as he could, he jumped off the berry and ran back under a
piece of loose bark on the tree where he was safe from Robins, anyway.
The Robin was now at work on the berry. He pecked it and poked it on
that broad flat part of the big branch, and he ate seeds, and all the
large pieces of berry he pulled off. But some of the berry slid into
a knot hole, and Mr. Robin did not get the whole berry after all. He
soon flew away--perhaps back to that same bush where the berry grew and
where he hoped to find another.
When Anthony Ant had waited in his safe place a long time and found
that the Robin did not come back to the branch, it seemed all right to
come out of the bark hiding place for a look at the world from that
spot.
Oh, but he was far, far away from the ground now! Even high bushes did
not make him dizzy, but this high tree almost did. He shut his eyes a
second and then took another look. This time he could keep them open
without feeling shivers up and down his spine, so he sat down to think.
First of all, though, before he could make any plans, he had to get
the sticky juice off, and it seemed to Anthony Ant that he never had
done so much scrubbing in his life. A lucky thing it was for him that
he had strapped his things on good and tight, for he was glad enough
now to have all the things in his little case. As well as he could
without any water, he scraped and rubbed and polished himself as he had
been taught, and as his wash cloth was still rather wet from the last
washing he had taken that morning he managed very well indeed.
There were little drops of juice the Robin had spattered where he poked
at the berry. These Anthony Ant drank up right away, and then thought
of the knot hole where the remainder of the berry had rolled. He ran
to look, and, sure enough, there it was! The Robin’s bill could not
possibly have reached it, but nothing was easier than for Anthony Ant
to go into the hole after the berry, so into the hole he went.
He tugged and he pulled, and he pulled and he tugged, and by and by he
had the berry--all that was left of it--out on the flat part of the
branch where he could eat it comfortably. Ho! After all, this was not
so bad. It was lovely up in the tree, and almost as good as a picnic
to be sitting there with nothing to do but to smell the nice air that
mixed with the sweet scent of the berry juice. If only the Ladybug and
the small Spider, Size Two could be there also! He opened his lunch
basket and took out a piece of plain bread--plain all but its shape,
for it was cut in a wild-rose shape. This he dipped into the berry
juice and ate it in peace--that is, he ate in peace for awhile, but
not for long, for as he glanced along the branch he saw two great eyes
looking at him from what looked like a mountain of fur!
EXPLORING A TREE
It is no wonder that poor Anthony Ant thought this world was just
nothing but one scare after another. He seemed always to be grabbing at
his things to save them and running off somewhere. Now he clutched at
his basket and case and dashed under that loose piece of bark so fast
that he dropped a sandwich. But he was thankful to get away after any
fashion.
The great mountain of fur came slowly along the branch, and as the Ant
watched he saw the mountain of fur had an enormous brushlike tail. Then
he knew the thing was a Squirrel, and, however bad a Squirrel might be,
it did not eat Ants, anyway. But it had feet and might step on Anthony,
so the Ant kept under cover to see what happened.
[Illustration: _The Squirrel did not speak_]
The Squirrel did not speak, but went along the branch and gave a jump
to another branch so far away that the Ant held his breath, thinking
the Squirrel surely must have fallen. But not at all! Mr. Squirrel was
safe and sound over on the other side of the tree before you could say
his name, almost.
Then the Ant tried coming out once more, and this time he ate the
sandwich he had dropped and a little more of the berry. Then he thought
it might be a long time before he found another berry bush again, so he
left the remainder of the berry to dry in the sun, since dried berries
can be easily packed to carry, and there is no danger of juice getting
over the other things in the basket. The taste is sweet for a long time
too.
Anthony Ant thought he would better see what a tree was like now that
he was in one, and after he had explored it he could go down to the
ground and off around the remainder of the world. It would save time
to see this tree now, and he would not have to climb another. One tree
must be more or less like all the others. So he tried one branch after
another. If he had thought he was alone in that tree after the Robin
and the Squirrel had left it, he was very much mistaken. It was full of
people--or rather, creatures.
The first one he met was a yellow Caterpillar different from any he
had seen before. After that he saw a small Measuring Worm that tries
to measure everything it travels over, inch by inch. Inchworm is its
other name. Then came a funny Bug that looked at him out of the corners
of his eyes in such a queer way that Anthony Ant knew it would be no
use to try to talk to him, as the Bug did not look like one that wanted
to talk to any one. Then came a branch with a lot of tiny red Spiders
not much of any size at all. They were friendly enough and asked him
to play tag with them, but he had no wish to play with them, as he was
afraid he might step on some of them or knock them off the branch, and
that would never do!
As Anthony Ant walked out on one of the leafiest branches of all, he
saw where the Robin had once lived, for there was a large nest. He knew
it at once by the pictures of nests his mother had shown him when he
was a tiny baby Ant.
No one was at home in this nest. The young birds had been hatched
many weeks before, and learned to fly, and were too big to have to
be cuddled in nests any more. It was interesting to see a real nest,
anyway, and the Ant began to think he had learned enough so far on his
trip to make a book good enough for schools.
He was feeling pretty puffed up at being so smart, when all at once
another thing happened to make him forget everything but running off to
hide again. There was the worst hammering under him you could think
of. Anthony Ant just scuttered up to a higher twig right away and
peeked down.
“Tap, tap, tap!” went the noise, and my! It was nothing but another
Bird. This one had the red on his head instead of on his breast like
Mr. Robin. Since Anthony Ant knew that this hammering Bird was a
Woodpecker and hunted for Grubs and Bugs in tree trunks, he crawled
out on to the stem of a leaf where there was no chance for a big Bird
to light, and just hid in a fold of the leaf until the Woodpecker flew
away.
The next thing that Anthony Ant found was something that made him give
a glad cry. It was a tiny green Worm--the very sort his mother had
sent him after lots of times to get for the larder. This would be food
for him for many meals, and, since Worms do not just walk into your
lunch basket when you tell them to, Anthony watched his chance, gave
a spring, and caught the small green Worm as Ants have been taught to
catch small green Worms since Ants and Worms were made. Though it seems
cruel, it really was one of the things not cruel at all, and Anthony
Ant had a good supply of food for his journey for one while.
All the remainder of the day Anthony explored the great tree. Never
had he dreamed there could be so many things in one tree before. It
was like a big garden and menagerie and shop and city besides. Why,
you could get almost anything you wanted in the tree! He found that
some Ants that looked a bit different from his own family, and from any
other Ants he had seen, were living there in the soft inner wood of the
trunk, and not wishing any better sort of home than that. They seemed
rather friendly and asked him to stop to see their colony.
“We must be sort of cousins,” said one of them, stopping in his work,
“and I’ll look in our photograph album right away and see if we have
your picture in it. Come into the parlor.”
Anthony went inside, but the place had a stuffy, woodeny, musty smell
to him, and he was quite sure he would not like to be a tree Ant and
have to live there.
They looked over the album, and oh me, oh my! There seemed to be no end
to the cousins those tree Ants had! There were pictures of baby Ants,
and growing-up Ants, and grown-up Ants. There were Ants photographed
each alone, and with other Ants in groups; pictures of Ants at picnics,
and at school, Ants in graduating classes, and at golf and tennis
and baseball, and swimming, and fishing, and going abroad, and in the
company of other notable Ants, “reading from left to right,” and all
that sort of thing--but never a picture of any Ant like Anthony Ant,
nor like any of his family and their own cousins.
“Nope,” said the tree Ant. “I’m afraid you don’t belong to us at all.
But have some supper with us, anyway. We’d like to hear about other
Ants that are not like us. It would be a pleasant change.”
So Anthony Ant stayed to supper and found, at any rate, they had a good
cook, and the salad of cold boiled Dragon Fly was delicious.
Then the Ant said good-by and went out upon the tree highway again. He
wanted to collect the dried berry for his lunch basket, and it might
take some time to find where he had left it, as he had traveled pretty
nearly all over the tree.
He found it before the twilight came, and, as it was too late to think
of traveling far on the ground that night, he made up his mind to stay
up in the tree until morning. The berry was not quite dry enough to
pack, anyhow. So he crawled out of sight under the loose piece of bark
where he had hidden from the Robin, and thought the morning sun would
dry the berry in plenty of time for him to have it by the time he was
ready to go down the tree.
[Illustration: _When an Owl in plain sight called out, “Hoot!” Anthony
smiled_]
It had been a busy day, and he was glad to settle himself early for a
night’s sleep. Mr. Bat, coming out from a hollow in the tree, swooped
close to Anthony Ant, but Anthony only smiled, and when an Owl in plain
sight called out, “Hoot!” Anthony smiled again, and of course you
know it was because he had the pass that said:
+--------------------------+
| T A T F |
| H N H R |
| I T R E |
| S H O E |
| O U |
| I N G F |
| S Y H R |
| O |
| T A A M |
| O N N |
| T Y H |
| P A |
| A N R |
| S I M |
| S G |
| H |
| T |
+--------------------------+
A VENTURE OF MOTTOES
The first thing to be done in the morning was to pack up what was left
of the berry, of course. After his long sleep, and a scrubbing at a dew
basin in a hollow of a leaf, and a good breakfast of some of the things
in his lunch basket, the Ant felt ready to walk miles. So he packed up
the dried berry and started down the tree, eager to be off over the
field again and to see some more of the world.
For a wide space under the tree the traveling was easy, for the ground
was fairly smooth and not cluttered up with things to be climbed over
and under. But that soon came to an end, and the same sort of trip
he had taken yesterday, when he went over and under, and down and up
things all the time, had to be taken again for a long distance. This
might be the way the entire journey around the world would be, for all
he knew.
Everywhere along the way the whole field was busy with life. Everyone
was working busily, and not one creature he met was sitting idle.
Half of the ones he met did not so much as see him, they were so
busy, and the other half took time merely to look at him, or to say,
“Good-morning!” in such a hurry that they hardly knew they were saying
it.
One old Grasshopper, however, stopped his cutting of a grass stem for
a minute. “What!” exclaimed the Grasshopper. “Do you mean to tell me
you are going off for a picnic, you young rascal? You ought to be at
home working with your family. You are a bad boy, sir! The very idea!
I never heard of such a thing! If you were my son, I should have to
give you such a whipping that it would be a long time before you would
forget it. What is the matter with you? Are you lame or anything?”
“No, sir,” answered Anthony Ant, rather frightened at the Grasshopper’s
cross voice. “I am not going to a picnic, and I am not lame, either.”
“Then tell me, why aren’t you at home working?”
Well, of course, you know Anthony Ant had to tell all about his reason
for leaving home, and at the mere mention of Dr. Alexander Beetle Bug
the old Grasshopper put back his head and laughed so hard that he
almost spilled a large drop of molasses out of his mouth.
“Well,” said he, when he could stop laughing long enough to speak,
“I’ll let you go without the whipping. You won’t need it, for, if Dr.
Bug has prescribed that trip for you, you won’t need any punishment
from me. His will be quite enough. His dose will be stiff enough to
fix you!” And he went on laughing so hard that the Ant thought the old
Grasshopper must be crazy.
[Illustration: _“Look here, son!” cried the Grasshopper_]
“Look here, son!” cried the Grasshopper, stopping his laugh quickly
when he saw the Ant was about to run away in disgust. “Now don’t be
angry. Only foolish fellows get angry at nothing at all. That is a
piece of advice worth pasting in your hat: _Don’t get angry at nothing
at all, and don’t get angry at anything!_”
“I haven’t any hat,” said Anthony Ant sulkily.
“So I have noticed,” said the Grasshopper. “Where is it? Did you run so
fast away from work that you did not stop even to put on your hat? You
must be a Gubblechook! And yet you took time to get your lunch basket
and other things, I notice. You don’t look much like a Gubblechook,
either--not yet, anyway.”
“What is a Gubblechook?” asked the Ant.
“A Gubblechook,” replied the Grasshopper, “is a fellow who is afraid of
work--so afraid of it that even if he could see the shadow of it coming
around a corner he would run and hide where he could not see it. You
can always tell a Gubblechook when you see one too.”
“How?” asked the Ant.
“Oh, by his looks,” said the Grasshopper. “He begins to look sort
of gubbly and chooky after awhile. His eyes lose their shine that
is better than Fireflies’ sparks. His mouth droops like a withered
squash blossom. His hair falls around over his face and flops in
strings around his ears. His tongue hangs out after awhile. His nose
points down for keeps, and he ends by sleeping forever and ever, and
then seven more forevers besides. If you don’t look out, you’ll be a
Gubblechook before long. Better paste this in your hat too: _Don’t be
afraid of work!_ It is the only thing that will keep you from turning
into a Gubblechook, you’d better believe! But where _is_ your hat?”
“A Field Mouse ate it,” answered the Ant.
The Grasshopper laughed harder than ever.
“That isn’t a joke!” said Anthony Ant with a pout.
“Well, I should think not!” exclaimed the Grasshopper. “Hats don’t grow
on every bush these days, I can tell you! But, just to show you I am
not making fun of you and that I really want you to be something better
than a Gubblechook, I’ll make you a present of as nice a hat as you
ever had in your life.”
The Ant was ashamed of himself. “I could not take it,” said he.
“Besides, Mother would not think I ought to take it when I can’t pay
for it, I know.”
“Nonsense!” said the Grasshopper. “She’d let you earn it, though,
wouldn’t she?”
“Well, yes,” the Ant answered.
“All right, then,” said the Grasshopper. “Let me see if you have
forgotten how to work. First, I’ll show you the hat to let you know I
am honest when I say it is the best one you ever had--or I should say,
the best you _can_ have, for of course you have not had it yet.”
From a swinging grass back of him the Grasshopper brought out a hat
that would exactly fit Anthony Ant, and it was made of the finest straw
to be had in the whole wide field. It certainly was a beauty!
“Now,” the Grasshopper went on, “I want a certain hollow under a stone
made a little deeper or wider or something, so I can get in and out
better. That stone covers my favorite rest room, but the hollow is too
small for me to wiggle into and out of easily. Here is a shovel.”
Well, sir, Anthony gave his basket and case into the Grasshopper’s
care, and went at the job for all he was worth. By and by he had the
hollow big enough so that when the Grasshopper tried it the size was
the very thing.
“I can see that you are still able to keep the name of Anthony Ant of
Ant-Hill Manor,” said the Grasshopper. “It is a pity to let your good
strong muscles get flabby. A Gubblechook’s muscles always do, you know.
So not only am I going to give you the hat, but I am going to give you
two pieces of advice all pasted in, into the bargain. Look inside the
hat.”
Anthony Ant looked inside. The Grasshopper was not a Gubblechook,
anyway, for he had worked hard to make the fine lettering of the words,
and he had taken much pains with the hatband he had made himself.
Anthony read the words inside the hat:
“DON’T GET ANGRY AT NOTHING AT ALL, AND DON’T GET ANGRY AT ANYTHING!
DON’T BE AFRAID OF WORK!”
He thanked the Grasshopper, took his hat and put it on, and, with
basket and case, marched on once more over and under the scenery.
A VENTURE IN QUESTIONS
The afternoon was at its hottest when Anthony Ant next stopped for a
rest. There was such a fine mossy stone in the shadow of a thick clump
of weeds that it made the very place to camp out for awhile.
He took off his new hat and placed it carefully where no Field Mouse
could get it. He was a pretty wise Ant now, he thought, for he had
learned a few things in his tramp, and one was that Field Mice and hats
are not to be trusted together if you ever want to see the hats again.
Then he tasted some of the dried berry and took a little nip at the
Worm he had caught in the tree, and found his sandwiches were nearly
gone. There would be about enough to last him for his supper, and
then he would have to get on as well as he could without sandwiches.
His cheese was nearly gone too. What a good time they had had at that
Wild-Rose Tea House--they three! He and the small Spider, Size Two and
the Ladybug had been such very good friends.
“Hello!” said a voice suddenly. “What on earth are you doing there
eating such nice things all alone?”
Anthony Ant was never more surprised in his life! There sat a Firefly.
You would not have guessed it to look at him, for there was not a bit
of fire showing anywhere about him. The Ant knew him as a Firefly,
though, because his mother had told him all about Fireflies when he was
a little boy.
“It’s all I’ve got to eat,” said the Ant in answer to the Firefly’s
question. “But I’ll give you a taste of anything you want, just the
same.”
“You speak as though there wasn’t any more food to be had in the
world,” said the Firefly. “Your voice sounded so solemn.”
[Illustration: _“It’s all I’ve got to eat,” said the Ant_]