Part 2

"Like many another inquisitive ant, beetle, or spider, I went along to the edge of the pit, and peeped in to see what it might contain, when to my horror the sand gave way, and I slid down, down, almost into the jaws opened wide to receive me. I turned faint with fright for a moment; then strength returned, and I scrambled up the side again. This was not easy, as may be imagined: the sand loosened more and more every step I took, and, even faster than I showered it down, the ant-lion flung it back, endeavoring to keep the sides steep, and prevent my escape.

"I just struggled to the brink, when who should come to my assistance but the good-hearted Harvest-mouse, who had witnessed the whole affair from her overhanging nest. She kindly extended her long tail for my benefit, which I eagerly clutched, and so was dragged out alive.

"Ugh! I never see a dragon-fly floating along, without thinking of that dreadful pit where the ant-lion lurked in waiting for victims. I felt too much exhausted to move after that, and, while in so miserably helpless a state, a bird snapped me up, to carry me through the air by three legs, as food for the young birds. They were very hungry,--children generally are,--but they would not give me so much as a peck of their greedy bills.

"'Why did you not bring a nice, fat-bodied garden-spider, while you were about it?' said the robin-mother reproachfully.

"I was then flung out of the nest, and fortunately caught upon a projecting twig as I fell. I hid under a leaf to rest awhile, congratulating myself that I was so rough and ugly.

"Several pretty young squirrels were whisking about the branches, while their parents gravely watched their sports with tails curled up over their backs in repose; or joined in the fun, chasing to loftier perches, where it made me giddy to watch them swaying about, and leaping from tree to tree, then returning to my immediate vicinity again.

"'Do you live out here?' I inquired, going towards them.

"'Yes,' they said, 'this is our summer house, you know; and very comfortable we find it for the heat of the season.'

"'I wish you would let me look at it.'

"'Oh! you can do that, certainly. It is built in sight of all the world. This is not the case with our winter house, however.'

"The cage was made of very slight materials, and placed upon the extremity of a frail branch, that swayed with every gust of wind. 'I should think you would be shaken out,' I remarked.

"'Not a bit of it,' returned the mother Squirrel. 'We could not be reached by any animal, the branch is so slender; and I am seldom frightened by the cries of boys,--unless, indeed, a stone should rudely strike the cage, when I take each of my young ones in my mouth, and deposit them in a place of safety.'

"'Where, then, is your winter home?' I next asked.

"'Ah! that is a question,' replied the father Squirrel, rubbing his nose with one little paw, in a knowing way.

"'I do not wish to make any impertinent inquiries, but I should like very much to know something more of your interesting family,' I said modestly.

"Upon this the two parents whispered and nodded together for a time, then turned to me again. 'If you promise not to tell any cat afterward, you can see it,' they said.

"Of course I consented. The winter cage was located in the fork of a tree, where the boughs concealed it from view, and served to shelter from the wind as well. The nest was quite large, being composed of moss, leaves, and grass.

"'Come in and see how nice and warm it is,' invited the hospitable Squirrels.

"'Do you build a new house every year?'

"'No: that would be too much trouble; so we generally occupy one for several seasons.'

"Bidding the amiable Squirrel family good-by, I crawled down the tree to the earth once more. I began to weary of this rough-and-tumble sort of life. In the struggle with the ant-lion I had sprained my back, which malady was severely aggravated by the rude treatment of the bird that carried me through the air, only to throw me away when the nestlings declined tasting of me.

"I reached the bank of the stream where I had first seen the Kingfisher; then, as the day was cloudy and cool, I sat down in a nut-shell, that served to keep me warm. While I lazily watched the fish dart through the crystal waters, and the birds flutter overhead, a curious object came floating towards me. What do you suppose it was? Why, nothing less than a snug raft of dried leaves and twigs, fastened together with silken threads, that bobbed along right merrily, bearing the sailor who constructed it easily and securely. He was really a remarkably handsome fellow, of a dark, chocolate-brown color, marked with a broad, orange band, and with pale-red legs. This was the floating palace of the Raft-spider, who not only pursues insects on shore, but trots out upon the water after them just as well. In doing this he requires some resting-place, and so builds the raft that excited my wonder and admiration. When he saw me sitting in the nut-shell on the shore, he laughed loudly; while I was only too glad to attract his attention, for I had a favor to ask.

"'Will you take me on board?' I inquired.

"'Yes: run ahead to yonder large pebble; then you can jump on when I pass by.'

"I did so; and when he came alongside I sprang aboard of the raft, which was amply large enough to receive both of us. I thought there never was better fun than sailing down the stream in this style. We danced along smoothly on the current when the water was calm, or we whirled round eddies and rapids; but we passed through all these dangers in safety. The Raft-spider conversed pleasantly. He frequently dashed overboard after some unlucky insect that had fallen into the water, moths, flies, and beetles; or he snapped up some tiny wanderer that rose to the surface for air; sometimes even crawling down the stems of plants for prey to the depth of several inches. He always returned to the raft with these spoils, and cordially invited me to share them, which I did with relish.

"'Eat away,' he urged. 'I can get plenty more at any time, while you look as thin as a starved grasshopper.'

"We had already become excellent friends, when we suddenly beheld a large boat steering swiftly towards us. The Raft-spider is extremely cautious; so, bidding me follow, he slid overboard to hide, as he was in the habit of doing when any danger threatened. Now this was all very well for him, as he could live under water for some time; but what was to become of me? The water bubbled up into my ears; I opened my jaws to scream, only to have more gurgle down my throat. I sputtered and gasped and floundered, until my companion took compassion upon me, and held my head up until the boat had passed, when he dragged me on to the raft again, more dead than alive.

"'To be sure,' he remarked gayly, 'I forgot you were not the same kind of a Spider as myself. You are only a landsman, after all.'

"'Do you have to jump overboard in that fashion often?' I faintly asked.

"'Bless you! I have done so every five minutes sometimes.'

"'I should like to land, then, if you please.'

"The Raft-spider made fun of my fears; but I was determined to get away from the water as soon as possible, so he put me ashore, and went on his way, still laughing."

Here the narrator was interrupted by the entrance of Hulda, who whisked the Teapot and Saucepan off to a high shelf across the room. The Cricket, Wasp, and Caterpillar fled in opposite directions, but the unfortunate Spider was not quick enough to escape. The thrifty housekeeper espied him with her keen eyes, and, pouncing upon him, caught, and threw him out of the window.

Here was an abrupt close to the story. The others could do nothing but sigh over this misfortune, and finally the Cricket said,--

"I propose, for one, that we do not meet again until the family have gone to bed; as, by so doing, we will not run the risk of being thrown out of the window."

To this they agreed; and then they separated, the Wasp and Caterpillar accepting an invitation to visit the Cricket in his mansion behind the brick.

The next night, when the household had retired, the Kettle Club resumed their places about the hearth. The Teapot had been left beside the fire, fortunately; but the poor Saucepan, to her great vexation, still rested on the shelf. They had hoped to hear something of the fate of the Spider; but, although the Cricket had been out of doors, prowling about that day, he could find no trace of the missing member.

"Such an interesting Spider as he was, too," commented the Kettle.

"Yes, indeed," assented the Teapot amiably; "I did not suppose one of his race could be so agreeable."

"There is no use groaning, since it cannot bring him back again," said the Wasp sharply. "Who is to speak to-night?"

"We should be delighted to hear you," said the crafty Cricket, desirous of keeping the Wasp in a good humor.

"Perhaps you will not find my history interesting, after that of the Spider," said he with affected modesty: he thought it would be much more so all the time.

"I am sure we shall," cordially returned the Cricket.

THE AMBITIOUS WASP.

"To begin then," commenced the Wasp, "I must first describe to you how I was born. Did any of you ever see, very early in the spring, one of my tribe flying slowly about, pausing to examine every earth bank, now exploring the burrow of a field-mouse, or perhaps entering the tunnel of a boring insect, all the while buzzing in a fussy way?"

"I now remember watching a Wasp during my travels, that behaved in a very curious manner," said the Cricket. "It alighted upon a wood-pile, and gnawed off a quantity of fibres, which were kneaded together carefully into a ball; and then the Wasp flew away with the ball to a hole near by. I did not dare ask any questions; because I feared receiving a sting for my curiosity, and I have heard such a wound is most painful."

"Ah! that is always the way," said the other in an aggrieved tone. "We are thought by man to be good for nothing but to steal sugar, or other sweets; and gnaw holes in fruit, to disfigure the ripe beauty of peaches, plums, and apricots. We are called lazy fellows, going about to give any one a sharp thrust; when in reality a sting often causes death, by tearing the poison-bag. This belief is partly true; still not altogether, for we are also of some good in the world. We do not live solely upon the juices of flowers and fruits: we are very fond of the hosts of flies that swarm about and render themselves so annoying in the summer season. For instance, if you notice the pigs in the farm-yard any warm day, you will observe that the flies cluster thickly over their skins, tormenting the poor animals terribly. This torment is greatly lessened by the wasps, who skim over the fence every now and then, and capture a fly inevitably in their fatal grasp."

"Is it possible!" exclaimed the Teapot.

"Yes, indeed," returned the Wasp complacently. "But I must tell you how I was born. The Wasp you saw on the wood-pile was selecting a home, like a careful matron, and was bundling the fibres together to use in the construction of her nest. This she was obliged to do without any help whatever, for all the other wasps had died the previous autumn, while she was left to sleep through the winter in some warm nook, then found a new colony in the spring. Having brought the fibres to her burrow, she runs up the side of the chamber, clinging to the roof with the last pair of legs, while with the first pair aided by the jaws, she fixes the woody pulp to the roof, forming a little pillar. Other pellets are attached, until this pillar, like a stalactite in a cave, is completed. At the end of the pillar she places three very shallow cups, lays an egg in each, and makes a roof over them. More cells are then added, eggs laid in them, and the roof extended over the whole. By the time all this is done, the eggs laid in the first three cells are hatched into tiny grubs, who are terribly hungry, requiring ever so many flies from the mother Wasp. At last they cease to feed; spin a silken cover over their cells; and, after spending a short time in this retirement, tear away the covering with their jaws, emerging perfect insects.

"They now repay the mother Wasp for her care, by assisting in all heavy labors, so that she really has little to do, but lay eggs as fast as cells can be made for their accommodation. Before long the first terrace is completely filled with cells, and more room is needed. The wasps next construct several more pillars exactly like the first one; and, by adding cells to these, another terrace is built below the first one. Three or four more terraces continue to form, the cells of these last being so small, that the mother Wasp cannot put her head into them. The inmates of these cradles are very much smaller than their parent, and are known as the workers, their lives being devoted to labor. These workers make excellent nurses, always feeding and tending the baby wasps with jealous care. Towards the close of the summer their conduct changes, however; they feel that a quick death for those nurslings who will not have time to grow up before cold weather is best, so they pull the helpless white things out of their beds, and carry them outside to die. I am glad I was able to grow to wasphood."

"Please raise your voice a trifle," said the Saucepan, in a vexed tone. "I cannot hear half that you say, over there."

"You had better use an ear-trumpet," remarked the Wasp impertinently. "I am already as hoarse as a raven from shouting so loudly."

"When the nest is abandoned the workers die; and so do almost all of the others, save a few of the females."

"How is it that you are alive, then?" interrupted the Teapot.

"One thing at a time, if you please," said the Wasp pettishly; "I am telling you as fast as ever I can. When I first spread my wings to fly out into the warm, bright sunshine, I was half-wild with delight at my new strength and beauty. The world seemed such a wonderful place! The air was so fresh, the flowers so fragrant and varied in coloring, and the hills so grand in height, that I could only flutter from place to place, bewildered with happiness. I alighted finally upon a catalpa-tree, whose branches were covered with splendid blossoms."

"'You feel very gay,' rustled the tree.

"'Yes, I am only just born; so I may well be gay.' I answered.

"'Ah! dance while you may,' said the Catalpa gravely. 'Your life lasts a few hours, but mine for years.'

"My fine spirits were chilled in a moment, and I dropped to the grass, feeling utterly miserable. I could only enjoy all this pleasure for a few hours after all! There was so much to see, and so little time to see it in, where should I turn first? While I sat there thinking after this fashion, a pansy slowly unfolded, and out of it stepped a tiny figure, no longer than one of my legs. I was not very wise, but I knew it must be a fairy or elf that now stood before me. He wore knee-breeches, a jacket to match, and a funny little cobweb cap.

"'So we are sad, eh?' he said, winking one eye drolly.

"'I have such a short time to live, that I do not know which way to turn first,' I replied.

"'That is a pity,' said the sprite, rocking himself upon a stem of seed-grass, as if it were a hobby horse. 'What would you do if you could live longer?'

"'What would I not do?' I exclaimed. 'I should try to see every thing beautiful and curious in the whole world.'

"'Stop a bit,' he interposed. 'You shall do this if you desire it so much.' He took off his cobweb cap and threw it at me, saying, 'This will make you invisible, if you put it on your head, when any danger threatens.'

"Before I had time to thank him the elf turned a somersault in the air, and plunged head first into his pansy mansion, which closed upon him."

Just at this moment the Kettle Club was startled by a sudden thump, thump in the room.

"What was that?" whispered the Teapot; and all the others listened, without daring to look over their shoulders, for the fire was rather low.

"It is only I," said the Saucepan. "I have jumped off the shelf to hear better."

"You must have hurt yourself," said the Kettle.

"Oh, no: I only feel a trifle jarred. I am made of tin, you know."

How were they to move the Saucepan nearer to the hearth?

"I think I could be rolled over, if any one would be so kind as to push me," she suggested eagerly.

So the Cricket, Caterpillar, and Wasp trotted out, and by pushing together succeeded in moving the Saucepan to the fireside.

"We can never turn you over," panted the Caterpillar.

"I can rest on my side," said the Saucepan cheerily.

"Your lid lies out yonder on the floor," said the Cricket.

"That is not the least matter. It would not stay on my head if I had it. Go on with the story, please; I am sorry to have made so much trouble."

"Where was I?" inquired the Wasp.

"The pansy fairy had just disappeared," said the Kettle, who for a wonder remembered the story.

"To be sure," resumed the Wasp briskly. "I skipped with delight at my brighter prospects, and started forward again with renewed courage. I first encountered some of my brothers and sisters, to whom I at once communicated my good fortune. Strange to say they none of them seemed to appreciate my superior advantages.

"'For my part I do not wish to live any longer than the sunlight lasts,' said one; and to this sentiment the others agreed.

"'My ambition leads me further,' I answered, and flew onward, never to see them more.

"I passed over the broad expanse of land, until I saw the sea glittering like a polished mirror in the distance. How I should like to make a voyage! I paused to rest upon a cliff that rose steep and smooth, with the ocean foaming about the base. There were a great number of bird-nests drilled in the surface of the rock, and by peering over the brink I could see the young birds, that were the funniest little balls of white down imaginable. Suddenly a parent bird came swooping home, and hopped into the very nest that I was examining.

"'Don't tumble me into the water,' I cried, clutching at the slippery stone, for the rapid flutter of the bird's wings made me giddy.

"'I will not hurt you,' said the other. 'I have been a long way to-day, and I have really gained little to eat for my trouble. I followed a great ship for hours, and only caught up a few crumbs, after all.'

"'Why, I do believe you are one of Mother Carey's chickens,' I exclaimed.

"'My proper name is the Stormy Petrel; still the sailors call me Mother Carey's chicken. I do not know why, but then sailors have queer ideas. Bless you, I can frighten them terribly by just skimming round and round on the wind: they then reef all sails, thinking I am about to bring a storm by my presence. Ha, ha!' laughed the bird merrily, 'only think of little me being dreaded by great, strong men. I can generally tell when a storm is coming,--they are right in supposing that much,--and oh! how I enjoy it! Why, friend Wasp, you have no idea what life really is, just fluttering about among the flowers and trees: I should gasp for breath where every thing is only still sunshine. What I call life is to see the clouds piled in dark masses overhead, the waves rearing mountains high, and to have the wind blow a hurricane.'

"'I should imagine such exposure would beat the life out of you,' I remarked.

"'Not at all,' replied the Petrel. 'I like to be tossed about, and spread my wings on the gale, although it may nearly take my breath away.'

"'I never dreamed of such a life,' I said; 'please tell me more about yourself.'

"'First I must feed my young one, as I have been away all day. We never lay but one egg, fortunately, for we have to feed them ourselves. We secrete a kind of oil in the digestive organs for them. Indeed, we are such oily birds, that in some parts of the world the natives thrust a stick through our bodies, and use us for lamps.'

"'You are gone so long,' piped the nursling.

"'That is to find something to eat, my dear.'

"'The time is so long, doing nothing but sit alone, staring out at the sea,' clamored the nursling.

"'Very true,' assented the mother Petrel quietly; 'but there is no help for it, except to grow strong and fly for yourself.'

"Upon this the young one began to strut and tumble about the nest, to the great delight of the parent, who encouraged such exertions. We became excellent friends, and talked over my plans of travel.

"'I dare not venture upon the ocean; because, if I grew tired of flying, I must fall into the waves and be drowned.'

"'You would soon be fatigued. Supposing I carried you?' said the Petrel.

"Here was a splendid idea. If I could only be taken to other lands, what pleasures would be in store for me. The Petrel promised to bear me over the seas, if I would wait until the nestling was able to take care of itself. I lived inland while I waited, and visited the birds every day in their rocky home. When the time approached for our departure, the mother bird proposed I should take a sail, just to accustom myself to the voyage by way of trial. I climbed upon her back, and she made a dart straight out into the air, that drove every particle of bravery out of my body.

"'Now, then,' said Mother Carey's chicken, 'hold on tight, and I will show you some better fun still.'

"I begged her to return to land; but the wind blew so strongly, that she did not hear my faint voice. She whirled in circles, pattered upon the water surface unconcernedly, and rose in the air with the rapidity of the arrow shot from a bow. I closed my eyes, and clung about the bird's neck, fearing every moment a fall into the great green billows that rolled away into space, as far as sight could reach. When we landed once more, I fainted away. The Petrel was dancing on one leg, and laughed at me, when I opened my eyes again.

"'I have a great mind to give up the journey,' I said in a pet. 'I can never cling to you in this way. If I had been content to lead the life of an ordinary wasp, I might have escaped all this trouble and vexation.'

"'It is never well to quarrel with destiny,' remarked my companion. 'Still, I would not give up because of a first sea-sickness.'

"Presently I regained my courage somewhat, and we began to ponder how I could be fastened on. I flew to land, and procured several long horse-hairs. These I wound about the bird's slender throat, and strapped myself tightly to her body. What a journey we made of it! The faithful Petrel must have carried me an immense distance. Sometimes she perched on the rigging of a ship, sometimes we rode on the waves, or we paused for the night at some rocky isle; yet Mother Carey's chicken never seemed to weary of the scenery about us."

"What did you have to eat?" inquired the Caterpillar, who, like all caterpillars, had a famous appetite of his own.

"Very little, indeed," said the Wasp. "A stray insect now and then, but never a sip of honey the whole way. I took the precaution, before starting, of fastening a blade of grass about my waist; in the same way that Indians gird themselves before making a journey, to prevent any feeling of hunger. At last land was seen in the distance, and I again stood on firm, dry ground.

"'Good-by,' said Mother Carey's chicken, spreading her wings as though ready for a fresh journey. 'I wish you good luck. Should you ever desire to go back north, any of us will give you a passage.'