Ant ventures

“Oh, my!” cried the small Spider, Size Two. “We ought to hear that! It was advertised in last night’s paper, and I am sure it will be fine. Ever hear a band concert, Mr. Ant?”

“Never!” replied the Ant. “Mother never would take me, but sent me to bed too early to hear any concert of any kind.”

“Oh,” said the Ladybug, “we must hear it!”

“What about the home folks?” asked the small Spider, Size Two.

“I’ll tell you what,” said she. “Go to the nearest telephone booth and call up your wife and tell her. She will let my family know too, for she is the best neighbor I have, and we’ll get back before so very late.”

Ah! but there was no telephone on the grounds, so the small Spider, Size Two sent a wireless message instead, and the matter was arranged.

As the dark came slowly, a Bat and all his cousins appeared from the woods somewhere or other and flew gayly about in the air, they were so excited about the concert. And the Fireflies began to bring out their little lanterns and try them on the dark corners here and there to see about the flash workings, and they began their dance about the place. The Crickets were vibrating their wing cases, and all sorts of insects that are more or less still all day were trying their violins, and flutes, and zippers, and zingers, and zoomers, and buzzoons, and drummerinos, and all the funny instruments only night insects know how to play. It was all very exciting. The three friends took hold of hands and sat on a small bench made of bark. They did not speak a loud word, it was so beautiful. There was a large crowd, for everybody from all the places around came.

“Which is your favorite sound?” whispered the Ladybug to the Ant.

“Why, I think it is the quiet, soothing sound those pale green insects with the wings you can see through are making,” he answered.

“Ah!” said she. “Those are the so-called August Croakers. They are a sort of Tree Cricket, and they sing every evening as soon as the dusk is near enough. They will not stop till the frost puts an end to their song.”

“They are my favorite too,” said the small Spider, Size Two. “Those loud, zippy things that make such a lot of exciting noise with their funny jiggerettes are all right for a little while to liven things up a bit, but for a steady, all-around, satisfying sound, give me the August Croakers every time.”

As some of the concert was sure to last most of the night, the Ladybug and the small Spider, Size Two thought they would better not stay after the Fireflies had finished the most lively part of their dance. They said good-by to the Ant and slipped away in the dark before he could thank them again for the great kindness they had shown him. All at once it was as though the night had shut him in with a smothering feeling of unhappiness. He was alone!

Anthony Ant went back to the dark bench and sat there alone trying to think what to do next. If the August Croakers had not been there with their comforting sounds, and the Crickets with their cheerful trills, he would have cried, he was sure. He watched the Fireflies and the Bats, and tried to follow the tune the loud, zippy insects were playing. It must be a sort of Hungarian gypsy dance, he thought, for he had heard that Hungarian music played by gypsies was of the wild, queer kind.

All at once Anthony Ant thought of his home and nice soft bed. He was tired from so much happiness all day and so much loneliness suddenly, and how he wished he could walk into the doorway of Ant-Hill Manor and find himself in his own snug corner where the Night could not hurt him! It seemed all at once, you see, as though the Night was something that would catch and hurt him. Anyway, he knew it would not do to sit on that bench all night. How he wished his friends had asked him to go with them! To be safe in Knot-Hole Barkalow with the Ladybug family or in some snug place with the small Spider, Size Two family, would be better than to be alone in a strange place. The other insects were going to their homes, and the place was getting more lonely every minute. There were fewer lights from the Firefly lanterns, and the Crickets were not so cheerful as at first, for even they were getting sleepy.

Anthony Ant left the bench and stole through the many shadows to the bank of the brook again. To hear its murmur was a little more cheerful, for he had heard it all day while sailing with his friends and traveling near it.

As he walked along the edge he came to the great bowlder where they had landed. He climbed to the top to see if in the dark there was anything to be seen. The pale moon was shining faintly over the water, and as he stood upon the top of the bowlder he saw a sight that made him a wee bit happy. The boat he thought gone forever was stuck near the shore farther down. If he could walk down the shore a little distance, he could get aboard. Maybe it would not seem so lonely on the white chip where he had been so happy. So he wearily climbed down the bowlder and, with his lunch basket and dressing case, crawled slowly along the shore until he came to the boat, and glad was he to find he could get on deck easily. This he did, and while the chip swung gently in some weeds without bobbling at all, he fell asleep and forgot how lonely he was and how afraid he was of the Night. He even had one pleasant little dream about the birthday party at the Wild-Rose Tea House!