Ant ventures

It was a good thing Anthony Ant had not been hungry the night before, for the next morning he was hungrier than ever he had been at home, and he did just wish he had some of the cereal he had found fault with at home the morning before.

But he ate more of the sandwiches and a large piece of the cold roast Grasshopper, and took a drink of water from a little brook near the spot where he had slept. He tried to think plain cold water for breakfast was exactly as good as hot cocoa, which he always had at Ant-Hill Manor in an old-fashioned cup his Grandmother had given him. In fancy letters on one side it said, “For a Good Child.” Then he set off with the remainder of his food packed in the basket, which was much lighter by this time. His shoes felt pretty tight, but he never had worn them for such long tramps as that of the day before. He made up his mind he would not go so far all at once again, as he had plenty of time, and at noon he would take all his shoes off and rest all his feet for an hour.

It was a hot morning and the sun beat down on the Ant’s bare head, so he picked a soft, green leaf, put it on his head, and tied it under his chin with a narrow grass blade. That was much better, and he almost sang one of the nursery rimes he had heard played on his phonograph at home. If his feet had not been so large for his shoes, he was sure he would have sung it, words and all.

He did not feel like singing a little later, for all at once something happened which nearly put an end to him. A large Bird flew out of a tree and pounced down to catch him, and he had barely time to jump into an Angleworm’s open doorway to save his life. He dropped his little case with his dressing things in it, but managed to hang on to his lunch basket. The Bird was a Flicker, and Flickers are so fond of Ants to eat that it does not matter who the Ant is so long as he is an Ant. Even if he was Anthony Ant of Ant-Hill Manor, he would have been eaten just as quickly if the Flicker could have caught him.

The Ant trembled so that all his knees shook, but he kept as still as he could otherwise, and did not move until long after the Bird had flown away. Then once more he had to move so suddenly that this time he almost lost his lunch basket.

The thing that frightened him was an Angleworm. Mrs. Angleworm wanted to know what he meant by blocking up her doorway like that. He tried to explain, but all she would say was, “Go away, sir! Go away at once! I do not wish to buy any books at all, nor sewing-machine needles, nor Mexican drawn work, nor soap, nor flavoring extracts, nor silver polish, nor aluminum ware, nor jewelry, nor teas and coffees, nor hand embroidery, nor doormats, nor rugs, nor clocks, nor perfumery, and I do not want to subscribe to The Angleworms’ Home Journal, nor to The Underground Gentleman, nor to The Earth’s Work, nor to The Flower-Bed Magazine, nor to The Literary Hashed News, nor to Little Angleworms’ Companion, so go away, sir! Go away, this minute!”

Oh, my, but the Ant was scared! She had thought him an agent of some kind when she saw the basket in his middle right hand. He opened his mouth to try to explain the whole matter to her, but she would not let him speak.

“Go away, I tell you!” said she. “I don’t want my piano tuned, and there’s nothing wrong with the electric lights, and you can’t come in to show me how any vacuum cleaner works, nor a washing machine, either! Go away!”

Out tumbled the poor Ant, and off he stumbled toward the right. He took one backward glance to see if she were following him, and he saw that she had found his little dressing case and was opening it. He hurried back, as scared as he was, for he could not let her have that.

When she saw him again, she said, “Yes, I know! You are an agent, just as I thought! This case proves it! You are trying to sell soap and tooth paste and combs and brushes, and all that sort of thing. I won’t have one of them, so take your old sample case away from here at once!” And she threw it at him with such good aim that it nearly hit him on the head.

Poor Anthony Ant! All his things packed so neatly by his mother were spilled all over the ground, and while he hurried as fast as he could to pick them up she scolded and scolded as he never had been scolded before.

At last he was out of hearing of her sharp tongue, and, out of breath, he sat down under a large stone to rest. He felt sure he was safe at last, for the stone was like a ledge, and came out over his head, so no Bird could see him. The ground was smooth and hard, so no Angleworm could be living there, he thought. He untied his green leaf hat, and then pulled off all his best shoes, for his feet were so sore and tired he could not tell which of all the pairs hurt the worst. The shoes he placed all in a row.

By looking at the shadows the sun cast out beyond the stone, he could tell that it was time for dinner. At home there was always a fine, hearty dinner, hot and nourishing, as Mrs. Ant knew well that those who worked hard at such labor as made the muscles exercise needed good, hearty food. But no fine, hearty dinner, hot and nourishing, waited ready for him to eat now. He had only what was left in his lunch basket, and I can tell you that, when he opened the cover and saw how the lunch had gotten mixed up from being all joggled by his hard running, it did not look very appetizing. No, sir-ee! As he tried to scrape the honey back into his jar from which the cover had been shaken, he almost cried, for the honey was full of crumbs from the sandwiches, and the sandwiches looked like old scraps to be thrown away instead of eaten. The filling had all come out, and the clover-sugar cookies were damp and sticky, and the big piece of cold roast Grasshopper might have been almost anything but food from the looks of it. Besides, sand had gotten into the things, and everything he tried to eat was gritty.

There was one good thing about the Ant, anyway. He did not give up, even with aching feet and gritty food to discourage him. He ate what he could and thought that pretty soon, after a rest, he would steal out to see if he could find a juicy berry anywhere. That would refresh him and perhaps make him forget the gritty food he had been forced to eat.

“I think I’ll leave my shoes where they are,” thought he. “They will be safe here, I am sure. It will rest me to go barefoot a bit.”

So he left his row of shoes and also his stockings, but he took along his little case and his basket, for he thought he might find a place to bathe himself, and he might even find a little food to put into his basket. But he did not throw away a bit of the gritty food, for he did not know when he could find any good thing to eat, and he might need even the unappetizing mix-up in his basket before he found anything.

It was rather hard stepping out barefooted at first, for even when he was working at home he had good, stout shoes always, as the Ants of Ant-Hill Manor were different from most Ants to be seen anywhere, as you may have guessed by this time. Also, it was harder to walk, as his feet had been made tender by the long tramp in his best shoes, which were new. But he took a slow gait, and by and by he came to the brook again. He dipped all his feet into the water, and he took a fine bath too, and dried himself in the warm sunshine on a big stone. It made him feel like another Ant, he was so rested. He sat there a long time. Then he began to hunt about for a juicy berry, and for whatever else there might be that Ants like to eat when they are not at home where they can have things put on to the table for them and don’t have to wonder where their meals are to come from.

Across the brook, which was narrow here, he spied a bush that had berries on it, although the season for berries was nearly over. Perhaps you think a little thing like an Ant cannot get across even a narrow brook, but he can. And so could this Ant, for, though he never had taken so long a trip before, yet he knew somehow the many tricks of getting across a brook. He stood on the big stone nearest the edge of the water until a piece of leaf floated down near him. Then he jumped upon the floating leaf and stayed on it until it sailed as far as he wished it to take him. Then, as it bobbed against a stone, he crawled off to that stone out in the stream, and found a narrow bridge of grass root that had lodged near the stone. This bridge took him within jumping distance of another stone, and that stone made him nearer the middle of the brook. There he found a dead branch of tree in the water, and this helped him all the way over to the other side, as it reached from the middle of the stream to the opposite bank.

He was more than glad when, after a long tramp over and under and around things, he came to the berry bush. Up it he went to the very first berry he could see, and took a good taste of the juice. It surely made him fairly glow with happiness once more, for in every creature there is a glow of happiness, whether you believe it or not, even though sometimes the glow of happiness is covered up by his own doings or wrong thoughts. Anyway, for the first time since leaving Ant-Hill Manor, Anthony Ant felt a glow of happiness. He sat for a long time on the stem of the berry, and looked all about him while he rested, and kept tasting the sweet juice of the very ripe berry. What a wise doctor his mother’s old friend was, to be sure! The Ant decided not to go home too soon, but to keep right on taking that good Dr. Alexander Beetle Bug’s prescription and let the others do the work of Ant-Hill Manor.