Chapter 4

The animals looked around for the ingredients, but there wasn't a scrap of food left. Realizing what a bad mistake they had made, they cried themselves to sleep.

The next morning Farmer Duff woke up and saw that all the food was gone. (How they'd eaten all of the food on the farm in one night, he couldn't imagine.) He spent the whole afternoon gathering food from the market. The animals worked all day without anything to eat, except for the blue jay and hawk who dug for worms. (If you've ever tried to work on an empty stomach, then you know how terrible that can be.)

Afterwards, when all the animals were tired and hungry, the farmer gave them a plate full of the only scraps he could find at the market. Then the blue jay asked all the exhausted animals, "How does it taste?" "TREMENDOUS STUPENDOUS!" they happily replied. And they ate till their bellies were full.

XXXIV

WHY THE CRICKET CHIRPS

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.

XXXV

WILL YOU WALK MY WIKOSH?

I'm terribly sorry, but if you wouldn't mind, Could you please feed the mazonias that I must leave behind?

I'll be back in a week from my trip to Mount Poe, And they cannot come with me, for they shiver in snow.

They're wonderful plants--they won't give you much trouble. Just give them a drink and a hubble-gum bubble.

And just before bed, sing the mazzaloo song. But watch out! They get mad if the song is sung wrong.

To anger mazonias is not very wise. If you're close, they will try to throw dirt in your eyes.

You know that I really do hate to impose, I just need to make sure my mazonia patch grows.

There are more things to do while you're thinging about. You could pet the galosh and then let the wug out.

Or just leave them alone, if you aren't in the mood. But ignoring galoshes and wugs is quite rude.

A galosh that gets petted, grows beautiful hair. Unpetted galoshes get sad and go bare.

When Wugs are inside they curl up into balls. If they don't go outside, they start bouncing off walls.

And will you walk my Wikosh (it won't be very tough). If you don't, he'll get bored and might hide all my stuff.

His favorite is watching me search all around, And when I find things, he lets out a "Wik-Woshing" sound.

Would you do one more thing, as a favor to me? My Dugalug gets a bit lonely, you see.

He's a great checkers player, but he doesn't like losing. He's also a cheater, so don't get caught snoozing.

And would you please fill the tub for my green sprinter fish? But watch out for the splash of his flipping tail swish.

I know I can trust you. You won't let me down. Would you watch them again, next time I leave town?

XXXVI

WOOLLY NOT SO MAMMOTH

By the Arctic Ocean, atop a frozen lake, Above the icy water and the sheets of snowy flake,

A Woolly Mammoth mother walked her son, Elan, to school. She combed his hair, said goodbye, and wiped a little drool.

Elan was not so large, as far as woolly mammoths go. His friends thought he was puny, and they always told him so.

And although he tried his hardest, he never really grew. Perhaps there was a special trick that bigger mammoths knew.

His biggest friend would tell him, so he tapped him during class. Their teacher wasn't watching, so he tried to talk real fast.

"How'd you get so big," he asked, "I'd really like to know. Tell me what the secret is, tell me how to grow."

"Well, my father is a mammoth, and my mother is one, too. It's all about your family--if they're big, so are you."

When Elan went home he asked his dad, "Why am I so small? You're enormous, so is mom. Shouldn't I be tall?"

"It's simple," said his father, "like I've told you all along, Eat your veggies, drink your milk, and you'll be big and strong.

"No way!" he thought, "Not a chance! Veggies are the worst. And my brother, Eli, never eats them. I should've asked him first"

"I know you're really busy, Eli, but I need some advice. How can I get bigger (and quickly would be nice)?"

"Take naps," his brother said, "Sleeping is the key. Sleeping lets your body grow. Just take a look at me!"

But napping like his brother meant he'd never be awake. Asking other mammoths was a terrible mistake.

So Elan gave up on growing, it was such a waste of time. Size was overrated; being short would do just fine.

And every night he laid in bed, happy with his fate. Until one day the bed collapsed, broken by his weight.

It was time that made him mammoth, and it would not, could not, hurry. There was never any need for him to panic or to worry.

A woolly mammoth mother walked her son, Elan, to school. He was healthy and enormous, but his mom still wiped his drool.

XXXVII

WORSTDAY BIRTHDAY PARTY

Today was the day that my sister turned eight. At times it was sour, but started off great.

We disguised the surprise of a party at night. The balloons filled the room, which was really a sight.

By request every guest came around to the back, To ensure, that for her, the surprise stayed intact.

And at five she arrived, so we all started cheering. Grandma Beau didn't know (she was quite hard of hearing).

We were greeted and treated by Lee the Magician, But no one, not one of us, sat down to listen.

My mother said brother had taken the cake. "Don't bother," said father who started to bake.

In an hour the flour was dry on his face. The splatter of batter soon covered the place.

He had, for a dad, done an excellent job. I knew this was true when I tasted a glob.

Amazed by the glaze that was mixed in the icing, We agreed that to feed us, this cake would need slicing.

But Tim dug right in and he ate like a hog. He was done, leaving none, which upset "Rash" the dog.

I was there in a chair when the presents came out. Sister shook from one look and she started to pout.

Whatever upset her, the gifts weren't enough. It was clear from the tears that she wanted more stuff.

A fifth of the gifts got thrown out in the trash. She messed with the rest and then gave them to "Rash".

She broke every spoke on the new bike they gave her. By then all her friends had walked out with a favor.

But dad always has his own great back-up plan, And to keep it a secret, he held one gift in hand.

I could tell from her yell, as he gave her one more, That this was the gift she had been waiting for.

Her tears, it was clear, had completely diminished. The pouting and shouting were pretty much finished.

I crept when she slept, and I gave it a look-- Very odd, not a rod, just a new fishing hook.

What I saw dropped my jaw, what a strange birthday wish! It appears that for years she'd been learning to fish.