Ant ventures

Yes, sir, it was exactly as the Yellowbird had said, as Anthony Ant found as he went away from the thistle and on through the tall, thick grass with his face set toward the left. Everyone was working. Not a Bug, nor a Beetle, nor a Worm, nor a Caterpillar, nor anything whatever at all had time to more than nod at him as he passed through the busy field world. They were all digging, or hunting, or building, or getting meals, or something of that kind all along the way. The farther he went, the more he thought how fine a thing it would be to get at that little wheelbarrow of his again.

By and by, as he was crawling along over a blade and under a blade, and on the ground, and up a weed to a bridge across to another weed, and down that weed, he came plump out over a monstrous new web of a monstrous jumpy Spider. There, sir, was the jumpy Spider’s head poking out of the cave house at the back of the web. Anthony Ant was so high above the web that he was as safe as could be, but he saw at once that it would not do for him to go down that weed. It would land him right on the monstrous jumpy Spider’s web, and that would be an end of Master Anthony Ant.

“Oh, ho!” said he. “I’m pretty glad to be up here instead of any nearer.”

Just for fun he played a trick on the monstrous jumpy Spider. He bit off a small piece of leaf and dropped it down upon the web veranda. You ought to have seen how fast that Spider pounced upon the bit of leaf! Although Anthony Ant was so safe, he had to shiver to think how he would have felt in the place of the leaf. Then the monstrous jumpy Spider, looking up, saw Anthony Ant, and began to dance up and down on the web veranda in a great rage.

“What do you mean, you villain, you!” cried the old Spider. “You young scoundrel! Let me get at you once and I’ll show you!”

He bounced up and down so hard on the web veranda that Anthony Ant shook like a bit of leaf himself. Oh, my, my! Of course, he had no business to play a trick upon the monstrous jumpy Spider, and it was mean, even if the old Spider was a bad fellow who killed innocent Ants and things he could catch. Yes, it served the Ant right to have this scare, he well knew, and the scare was turning out to be a real danger. The Spider shook the whole web so hard that the entire bridge of this weed was wiggling so fast that the Ant could not back away on it to the weed from which he had come, and thus get away. No, sir! He was nicely paid for his wicked little trick. Unless the old Spider stopped that shaking of the web, Anthony Ant would be thrown down upon it and eaten up. He clung on as hard as he could with all his feet and hands. Then all like a flash through his mind came the words of the Yellowbird, and in as loud a voice as his trembling would let him he cried down at the monstrous Spider, “Yellowbird! Yellowbird! Yellowbird!”

Well, sir, you should have seen the sudden change in that Spider’s looks! He had been black and fierce looking, and now he was almost gray, he was so pale. Besides, he was no longer stiff and fierce, but limp and scared, and, as well as the limpness would let him, he lost no time in getting back into that farthest-away corner of that cave house at the back of the web veranda.

It did not take Anthony Ant long to climb back along that bridge, and off by another little out-of-the-way path until he could safely pass the spot where the old monstrous jumpy Spider lived. He said to himself he never would play a wicked trick again on anything.

It was high noon when he stopped to eat some of the Clover Lodge refreshments. How good they tasted! As he ate, he thought of that good, nice old fubbly gentleman Bumblebee, and how the trick the Bumblebee had played was a kind one. That was the only trick to play—one that was good and kind—not a wicked one like that he himself had just played on the old Spider. Anthony had taken off his hat to cool his head while he ate, and he saw the mottoes the good, friendly Grasshopper had pasted in for him. The longer motto he read aloud:

“Don’t Get Angry at Nothing at All, and Don’t Get Angry at Anything!”

Well, he had not been angry today, but he had made the Spider get angry. That was almost as bad as though he himself had been angry. His mother had told him many a time that even if you did not take part in a sin, but made someone else do the sin, it was as bad as though you did it yourself, and you were no better than the one who sinned.

“I guess I was pretty terrible,” said Anthony Ant with a thoughtful sigh.

All at once he thought of something. He would be braver than he ever had been in his life. He would go back softly to that bridge and ask the Spider’s pardon. And this is the way Anthony Ant did it:

He put on his hat, took all his things, and traveled all that long way back, though it made it nearly half a day more before he would be home. Climbing carefully and quietly to the bridge, he stole slowly out over the old monstrous jumpy Spider’s web veranda and dropped a small Fly he had caught on the way on purpose for a peace offering.

Out came the monstrous jumpy Spider in an instant and grabbed the Fly in a hurry.

“O Mr. Spider!” called Anthony Ant. “I am the bad Ant that teased you this morning by fooling you with the piece of leaf. I am very sorry. I’ll never do it again, and I caught the Fly for you just now to let you know I really mean it when I say I am sorry. Will you please forgive me this time?”

My, but the Spider was surprised! He nearly dropped the Fly, and would have dropped it, only that he was so hungry he already had bitten into it, and stopped with the bite in his mouth. But never had any one asked him for forgiveness before, and the more he thought about it, the more surprised he was.

By and by, in his surprise, he let the Fly fall right out of his mouth to the floor of his web veranda, and he said slowly, “Well, that beats me! I never heard the like! To think you would be so kind to me when I was so angry at you I could have eaten you, and should have if I had gotten hold of you! I know I’m a gruff old fellow, and I’m sorry too, and it was mighty good of you to bring me the Fly. I thank you. If there was anything to forgive you for, I do from the bottom of my heart!”

Anthony Ant thanked him, and with a light heart said good-by. He ran back the way he had come, to make up for lost time. The journey seemed only half as long to the spot where he had eaten his luncheon. Though it was nearly time to think of supper, he felt well repaid by the good feeling in his heart for all that long journey back to make his peace with the Spider.

As for Mr. Spider as he sat in his doorway after his feast given him by the Ant, he thought and thought more than ever he had thought in his life. The words he thought were about the same as those in the Ant’s hat:

“Don’t Get Angry at Nothing at All, and Don’t Get Angry at Anything!”