Before things were the way they are, the cricket could fly. He flew
faster than the bumblebee. He flew higher than the falcon. And he
flew fancier than the flying marmaduck (who was quite a fancy flier).
The cricket wanted to fly all over the world. He flew to the East.
Then he flew to the West. And then he flew to the South. But he had
never flown to the North.
The ant tried to warn him that he should not try. "It's very cold up
north," said the ant, "It's too cold for an ant and too cold for a
cricket."
The cricket, however, did not listen to the ant, because crickets do
whatever they want. He set off for the North that very night. It did
not take him long to get there because he was such a fantastically
fast and fancy flier.
The cricket landed next to a pine tree as the sun began setting.
There was snow everywhere he looked. There was snow on the trees.
There was snow on the ground. And there was snow on top of the
mountains.
The moose came walking over to him very slowly. He spoke even more
slowly. "Ohhhh...Hello," said the moose. "Bundle up, nighttime is
coming." The cricket, however, did not listen to the moose because
crickets do whatever they want.
He flew up into a pine tree to settle in for a good sleep. It did
not take him long to get there because he was such an incredibly
fast and fancy flier. The owl came flying over to the same branch.
"You should find some shelter from the cold night," said the owl.
The cricket, however, did not listen to the owl because crickets do
whatever they want.
He crawled away from the owl and the branch, and he rested on a pile
of twigs. All the remarkably fast and fancy flying made him sleepier
than he had ever been. The cricket slept all through the night until
morning.
When he woke up, he was ready to go back home and tell the ant about
his trip. He hopped high in the air to start flying, but he
couldn't. Instead, he fell right back into the snow. He hopped
again, even higher this time, but his wings would not work. They had
been frozen solid during the cold night.
He tried to warm them up by rubbing them together, but it was no
use. The cricket had no choice but to hop all the way home. It took
him days and days to return. By the time he got back, his wings had
almost become unfrozen.
But it is important to know that wings are very special and very
fragile, which is why the greatest care should always be taken
around them. They are not meant to be frozen, and once they are,
they may never be the same again.
So even though the cricket's wings were no longer frozen, they still
could not fly anymore. And ever since then, the cricket stays on the
ground like his friend the ant, and he hops from place to place. And
now the cricket is the fastest and fanciest hopper there is.
At nighttime, you can hear him chirping from rubbing his wings
together to keep warm. But he is doing much more than just that: At
bedtime, the cricket is telling you how warm or cold it is by his
chirping. He chirps faster when it is warm, and he chirps slower
when it is cold. This way you will not make the same mistake that he
did. However, that is only if you decide to listen*.
* Dolbear's Law states that if you count the number of times a
cricket chirps in 15 seconds and add 40, it will give you (roughly)
the temperature in degrees Fahrenheit.