Chirpy Cricket liked his home in Farmer Green's yard. During the long
summer days he thought it very cheerful to rest in his dark hole in the
ground. He liked the darkness of his home; he liked its warmth, too. For
in pleasant weather the sun beat down upon the straw-littered ground
above him and gave him plenty of heat, while on gray days the straw
blanket kept his house cosy. And it never occurred to Chirpy Cricket that
there was anything odd in having a blanket over his house instead of over
himself.
Nothing ever really disturbed Chirpy Cricket after he settled in the
farmyard. To be sure, he had a few frights at first. Now and then the
earth trembled in a terrible fashion. But that happened only when Johnnie
Green led old Ebenezer, or some other horse, to the watering-trough,
passing right over Chirpy's home. And Chirpy had soon learned that he was
in no danger.
Then at other times he heard an odd tearing and scratching, as if some
giant had discovered Chirpy's doorway and meant to dig him out of his
hiding place. By peeping slyly out he discovered at last the cause of
those fearful sounds. It was only the hens looking for something to
eat--a bit of grain amid the straw, or perhaps an angleworm. Chirpy never
left his house when he heard the hens at work. He had no wish to offer
himself as a tidbit. And he felt quite safe down in his home, for he was
quick to learn that the hens were no diggers. They could only scratch the
surface of the ground. So, in time, he used to laugh when he heard them.
And now and then he would even fiddle a bit, as if to say to them, "Here
I am! Come and get me if you can!"
The sound of fiddling, coming from beneath their feet, always puzzled the
hens. They would stop scratching and cock their heads on one side, to
listen. And they tried to look very knowing. But they were really the
most stupid of all the creatures in the farmyard. If they had only been
as wise as Farmer Green's cat they would have kept still and waited and
watched. And sooner or later they would have given Chirpy Cricket the
surprise of his life, when he came crawling out of his hole to get a few
blades of grass for his supper.
But even if the hens had thought of such a plan they never could have
kept their minds upon it long enough to carry it out. So perhaps it was
no wonder that Chirpy Cricket got the idea into his head that he was safe
from everybody. Sometimes, when he was dozing, even the footsteps of old
Ebenezer failed to rouse him.
But there came a day when Chirpy Cricket awoke with a great start.
Something had touched his long feelers. Something had come right down
into his hole and was prodding him.
He thought it must be a hen. And he did not laugh. No! Nor did he
fiddle!
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