To be sure, the family trumpeter—who awakened
the household each morning and was a somewhat lighter
sleeper than the others—the trumpeter claimed
afterward that she dreamed that she heard somebody
at the door that night. But that was all the
good that came of Freddie Firefly’s efforts.
After trying his best to rouse Peppery Polly’s
people, Freddie Firefly at last grew discouraged.
He saw that the Bumblebee family was bound to sleep
until dawn came, no matter what happened.
He reflected, then, that there were two things he
could do. He could go back alone to the clover
field and try to set that ill-tempered worker free—and
no doubt get stung by her for his pains. Or he
could go to the dance of the Fireflies over near the
swamp, and have a delightful time.
“Let me see!” Freddie mused aloud.
“I promised Peppery Polly that I’d come
back with one of her own people—if
I could. And since I can’t do
that, I ought not to go back to the clover-patch at
all. For if I did, it would be about the same
as breaking a promise. ... No! I’ll
go to the dance instead!” And away he flew.
Luckily the dance was not half finished when he reached
it. And he had such a pleasant time that he forgot
all about that Bumblebee worker, stuck fast to the
thistle blossom.
But you may be sure that Peppery Polly did not forget
him. After her friends set her free the following
morning she spent the whole day looking for Freddie
Firefly.
But he lay very low. And all the rest of the
summer he shunned the clover field—and
the flower garden, too.
JENNIE JUNEBUG
On the day—or rather, on the night—when
he first met Jennie Junebug, Freddie Firefly was ill
at ease. In fact it might be truthfully said
that he was quite upset.
One beautiful, warm, dark night early in the summer
Freddie was hurrying to join a big family party which
was already gathering in the hollow beyond the hill.
He was scooting along through the damp air, flashing
his light at the rate of about thirty-six times a
minute, when a heavy body bumped into him and knocked
him head over heels upon the grass-carpeted ground.
It was no wonder that he felt upset. And he felt
quite peevish, too, as he picked himself up and looked
about him to see what had happened.
The next moment he was flashing his light into the
blinking eyes of an enormous fat person, who seemed
to be dazed, either by the shock of the collision
or by the light—Freddie Firefly couldn’t
tell which.
“Why don’t you look where you’re
going?” Freddie cried impatiently. “You
knocked the breath out of me. And you almost broke
one of my legs.” The next instant he was
heartily ashamed of himself; for he saw, to his surprise,
that he was talking to a lady. “Oh!
I beg your pardon!” he cried. “Ex—excuse
me! I hope you’re not seriously injured?”
