In the lower part of the meadow, where the grass grew tall and tender,
there lived a fine and sturdy young Snail; that is to say, a
fine-looking Snail. His shell was a beautiful soft gray, and its curves
were regular and perfect. His body was soft and moist, and just what a
Snail's body should be. Of course, when it came to travelling, he could
not go fast, for none of his family are rapid travellers, still, if he
had been plucky and patient, he might have seen much of the meadow, and
perhaps some of the world outside. His friends and neighbors often told
him that he ought to start out on a little journey to see the sights,
but he would always answer, "Oh, it is too hard work!"
There was nobody who liked stories of meadow life better than this same
Snail, and he would often stop some friendly Cricket or Snake to ask for
the news. After they had told him, they would say, "Why, don't you ever
get out to see these things for yourself?" and he would give a little
sigh and answer, "It is too far to go."
"But you needn't go the whole distance in one day," his visitor would
say, "only a little at a time."
"Yes, and then I would have to keep starting on again every little
while," the Snail would reply. "What of that?" said the visitor; "you
would have plenty of resting spells, when you could lie in the shade of
a tall weed and enjoy yourself."
"Well, what is the use?" the Snail would say. "I can't enjoy resting if
I know I've got to go to work again," and he would sigh once more.
So there he lived, eating and sleeping, and wishing he could see the
world, and meet the people in the upper part of the meadow, but just so
lazy that he wouldn't start out to find them.
He never thought that the Butterflies and Beetles might not like it to
have him keep calling them to him and making them tell him the news. Oh,
no indeed! If he wanted them to do anything for him, he asked them
quickly enough, and they, being happy, good-natured people, would always
do as he asked them to.
There came a day, though, when he asked too much. The Grasshoppers had
been telling him about some very delicious new plants that grew a little
distance away, and the Snail wanted some very badly. "Can't you bring me
some?" he said. "There are so many of you, and you have such good,
strong legs. I should think you might each bring me a small piece in
your mouths, and then I should have a fine dinner of it."
The Grasshoppers didn't say anything then, but when they were so far
away that he could not hear them, they said to each other, "If the Snail
wants the food so much, he might better go for it. We have other things
to do," and they hopped off on their own business.
The Snail sat there, and wondered and wondered that they did not come.
He kept thinking how he would like some of the new food for dinner, but
there it ended. He didn't want it enough to get it for himself.
The Grasshoppers told all their friends about the Snail's request, and
everybody thought, "Such a lazy, good-for-nothing fellow deserves to be
left quite alone." So it happened that for a very long time nobody went
near the Snail.
The weather grew hotter and hotter. The clouds, which blew across the
sky, kept their rain until they were well past the meadow, and so it
happened that the river grew shallower and shallower, and the sunshine
dried the tiny pools and rivulets which kept the lower meadow damp. The
grass began to turn brown and dry, and, all in all, it was trying
weather for Snails.
One day, a Butterfly called some of her friends together, and told them
that she had seen the Snail lying in his old place, looking thin and
hungry. "The grass is all dried around him," she said; "I believe he is
starving, and too lazy to go nearer the river, where there is still good
food for him."
They all talked it over together, and some of them said it was of no use
to help a Snail who was too lazy to do anything for himself. Others
said, "Well, he is too weak to help himself now, at all events, and we
might help him this once." And that is exactly what they did. The
Butterflies and the Mosquitoes flew ahead to find the best place to put
the Snail, and all the Grasshoppers, and Beetles, and other strong
crawling creatures took turns in rolling the Snail down toward the
river.
They left him where the green things were fresh and tender, and he grew
strong and plump once more. It is even said that he was not so lazy
afterward, but one cannot tell whether to believe it or not, for
everybody knows that when people let themselves grow up lazy, as he did,
it is almost impossible for them to get over it when they want to. One
thing is sure: the meadow people who helped him were happier and better
for doing a kind thing, no matter what became of the Snail.
[Illustration]