Chirpy Cricket never fiddled faster than he did that night. Somehow he
had a notion that the faster he fiddled the more quickly the night would
pass. For Freddie Firefly had promised to loan Chirpy his light, because
Chirpy needed it when he saw Miss Christabel Cricket to her home beyond
the barnyard fence. Chirpy was going to see her safely to her door when
the night's concert was ended. And he could hardly wait until the time
came when he would flash that wonderful light in the eyes of all his
friends.
"I hope you won't go dancing across the meadow tonight," he remarked
anxiously to Freddie Firefly. "You might wander into the swamp and get
lost."
"Oh, there's no danger of that!" Freddie assured him.
"If you stumbled into the wet swamp you might put your light out," Chirpy
Cricket warned him.
But Freddie Firefly laughed and told him not to worry.
"I always enjoy at least one dance in the meadow each night," he
explained. "They're expecting me over there now. And I don't want to
disappoint them."
"No!" Chirpy answered. "And neither do you want to disappoint me. So
please don't fail to be on hand when the music's finished."
After telling Chirpy that he wouldn't fail him, Freddie Firefly flitted
away. But in spite of what he had said Chirpy Cricket couldn't help
feeling nervous and uneasy. And he fiddled so fast that the other
fiddlers kept complaining. They said he wasn't playing in time.
Chirpy Cricket was too well-mannered to contradict them. But he had his
own opinion, which he kept to himself. He thought his companions were out
of time. "Goodness!" he exclaimed under his breath. "I near heard such
slow fiddling in all my life!"
There was another way, too, in which Chirpy annoyed the others. He kept
asking them--first one and then another--what time it was. And of course
nobody wants to stop and look at his watch when he is fiddling.
At last one of his cousins told him, in answer to his question, that it
was time to stop talking and pay attention to the music.
After that Chirpy Cricket tried to be patient. But it was hard not to be
restless. And he kept leaping into the air, hoping to get a glimpse of
Freddie Firefly's twinkling light. For it seemed to him that Freddie
would never return from the meadow.
At last the fiddlers stopped playing, one after another; for the night
was going fast. The Cricket family always liked to be home before
daylight.
Chirpy had almost given up hope of seeing Freddie Firefly. But to his
great delight Freddie came skipping up just as Chirpy stood before Miss
Christabel Cricket, whom he expected to see to her home.
"I'm glad you've come!" Chirpy greeted him. "I'll take your light now.
And I'll return it to you to-morrow night."
"Oh! That would be too much trouble for you," Freddie Firefly said. "I'll
go right along with you and your young lady. And after I've lighted her
home I'll do the same thing for you."
"Oh! That would be too much trouble for you," Chirpy Cricket objected.
"Let me take the light, please!" He certainly didn't want Freddie Firefly
tagging along with Miss Christabel Cricket and himself.
Of course, Freddie Firefly _couldn't_ give Chirpy his light. It was just
as much a part of him as his head. And since Chirpy Cricket began to get
excited, and said again and again that the light had been promised him,
in the end Freddie had to explain everything.
It was a great disappointment to Chirpy Cricket. He had expected to have
wonderful fun, flashing Freddie Firefly's light.
But Miss Christabel Cricket did not seem to mind in the least.
"You oughtn't to blame Freddie Firefly for not loaning his light," she
said. "You know you wouldn't let him take your fiddle."
Well, Chirpy Cricket hadn't thought of that. And he had to admit that
what she said was true.
And just then the sun peeped over Blue Mountain. So everybody hurried
home alone, after all.