The Sun's Babies Part 14

All that day and night she and Billy b.u.t.ton grew so fast that when the next morning came they hardly knew one another.

"How big you are, Billy!" said Milly.

"So are you," said Billy. "You are quite a mushroom lady now. But goodness gracious! Whatever is that? What a monster! And how it shakes the ground!"

A boy was walking over the field with a basket in his hand. He was gathering mushrooms. He stooped and pulled Billy b.u.t.ton from the ground.

"Oh, the cruel monster! Oh, poor, poor Billy!" sobbed Milly Mushroom.

But Billy was not at all frightened. "Hurrah! I am going to travel at last!" he cried. "Good-bye, Milly. I shall see the world now."

He was popped into the basket and carried off, while Milly was left shivering under the thistle's arm.

She soon forgot her fright, however, though she often wondered what happened to Billy b.u.t.ton, and whether he enjoyed his travels. She grew taller and bigger every day, and changed her hood for a big flat hat so wide and shady that the little field-mouse could sit under it and talk to her. And the thistle covered her from sight with its friendly arms, so no monster ever found her to put her in his basket and carry her off.

WIGGLE-WAGGLE

Mrs. Earth-worm made a hole under the ground and put an egg in it.

Round the egg she wrapped clear jelly to serve as food for the little one when it should hatch. Then she went back to her burrow.

Soon Wiggle-Waggle came out of the egg. He was the tiniest worm you could imagine, but he had a fine appet.i.te; he ate all the jelly his mother had left for him. Then he began to nibble at the earth, and he liked it so much that he went on nibbling. There were all sorts of nice things in it--sc.r.a.ps of leaf and stalk and root and seed--just the things he liked best. The more he ate the bigger he grew; soon you would hardly have known him.

One day he thought: "I wonder what it is like above the ground? I will go up and see."

He began to burrow in an upward, slanting direction, breaking down the earth with his hard little mouth, and swallowing it out of the way. At last he reached the surface of the ground and poked his head through into the daylight. But he drew back quickly into his burrow again, for the strong light hurt him. He could not see it, for he had no eyes, but he could feel it on the skin of his head, and he did not like it.

"It makes me feel quite ill," he said. He pulled some loose earth into the mouth of his burrow, and coiled himself round till night fell.

Then he came out once more. Ah! things were very different now! The air was cool and moist, and delightfully dark; hundreds of neighbour worms were crawling over the ground, feasting and talking and visiting one another.

"Oh! there you are at last," said his mother from the next-door burrow.

"I have been listening for you. Fix your tail into the top of your burrow, and sway yourself round and feel for your food. Then you can slip back easily if an enemy comes near. There are many enemies about, so listen carefully. And never stay up till daylight comes, or a bird will catch you."

So Wiggle-Waggle entered into the busy night-life of the garden. At first he followed his mother's advice, keeping his tail in his hole while he felt for green leaves, dragging them into his burrow. Later, he grew more venturesome, and crawled out over the ground to make the acquaintance of his neighbours. He lined his burrow with soft leaves and gathered tiny stones together to hide the entrance from the eyes of his enemies. Life was busy and pleasant, and he grew big and strong.

But one night he stayed up too long; when the red light of morning sprang up in the eastern sky he was quite three feet from his home. He hurried, darting his head as far forward as he could reach, sticking his front bristles in the ground, drawing his body up in a loop, dropping it, and then darting his head forward again. He went swiftly, but not quite swiftly enough. An early blackbird saw him, and swooped down upon him. His head and half his body were already in his burrow, but the blackbird's beak closed on his tail.

He stuck all four rows of sharp bristles like tiny pins in the ground, and held on for his life, while the blackbird pulled hard for its breakfast. Snap! crunch! tear! It was dreadful. Poor Wiggle-Waggle parted in the middle, and the blackbird flew off with half of him.

Wiggle-Waggle was not dead, but he felt very unwell. He wriggled down to the bottom of his burrow, and kept very quiet for a long time. And a wonderful thing happened. New rings of body, and then a new tail, grew on the broken end, and soon he was a whole worm again, with only a join-mark to show that an accident had happened.

When he goes up at night now to feed and visit his neighbours, he is very careful not to stay too late. He is still living in his old home, unless the last heavy rain has flooded his burrow and washed him out.

THE LEAF FAIRIES

In the wood the Leaf Fairies were busy making their leaves. They made them of every shape and size, for each fairy had her own idea of what looked prettiest. Some made them long and narrow, like tall and graceful ladies; some made them round and dumpy, like fat little men; some made them heart-shaped, and some cut up the edges till they were all dainty points and curves. Some placed them sitting down on the branches, while others set them on slender stalks. There was no set rule for anything. Each fairy followed her own pretty fancy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "In the wood the Leaf Fairies were busy making their leaves"]

Most of the leaves were green, but a few were splashed with yellow or veined with red or lined with silver. Everywhere they covered trees and bushes and low-growing ground plants, growing here in cl.u.s.ters, and there singly or in pairs. The fairies swung themselves far out on the branches to admire their handiwork.

"Now you must be busy," they said to the leaves. "In the daytime you must help the roots to gather food for yourselves and all the family--roots and stems and flowers and seeds; and at night when we have swept the pa.s.sages you must throw out the rubbish."

"Shall we never have time to play?" asked the leaves anxiously.

"Yes," said the fairies. "When the family is fed each day you may dance with the winds and play hide-and-seek with the sunbeams, and when the autumn is here and all your work is done, we ourselves will take you for a pleasure trip."

The leaves were content, and at once set to work. The fairies made tiny kitchens for them, and here they gathered the food for the family and prepared it for their use. The fairies carried it to roots and stems and flowers and seeds, so they all grew strong and well. At night the fairies swept the pa.s.sages so clean that not a grain of dirt was left anywhere; the leaves threw out the rubbish from their kitchen doors.

Summer pa.s.sed and autumn came. "You have worked well," said the fairies to the leaves. "Now you shall have your pleasure-trip."

They dressed the leaves in gay frocks, all gold and crimson and bright brown; they loosened them from the trees and set them floating on the wind. "Now follow us," they said; and the fluttering leaves followed them. First they whirled and danced on the ground beneath the trees, then they rose in the air and flew away, away--n.o.body knows where. You could not have seen the fairies leading if you had been there, for they are not visible to mortal eyes; but you would have seen the leaves following them. Where they went to I can't tell you. They never came back, though it is said that the fairies did.

BUNNY-BOY

"Now, Bunny-Boy," said his mother, "look after the house while I am away, and mind you do not go outside, for there are boys about to-day."

"What nonsense!" thought Bunny-Boy to himself. "As if I could not run faster than any boy. And I have been waiting for a chance to go and see the world, so I shall go to-day."

As soon as the Bunny-Mother was out of sight, he slipped out and ran away, this naughty Bunny-Boy, with his little white tail bobbing, and his eyes shining with delight. "Now, I shall see what the great world is like," he thought.

He came to a skylark sitting on her nest.

"Good-day, Lady Skylark!" he said. "I am going to see the world.

Would you like to come with me?"

"Oh dear no, indeed," said the Skylark. "I have to sit on my eggs.

Does your mother know you are going?" Bunny-Boy ran off at once. He did not want to answer that.

He came next to a little hill, where other Bunny-Boys and Bunny-Girls lived. They all came running out to see him, and said: "Stay and play with us."

"No," he said; "I am going to see the world."

"Where is that?" they asked.

"Somewhere over that big fence," said Bunny-Boy. "You may come with me if you like."

"We do not want to come," they said. "You stay here with us." But Bunny-Boy would not stay. He ran off again. The others called out: "We will tell your mother of you." But he only ran the faster.

He went through the big fence, and came into a field of oats. Here men were busy cutting the oats, and Bunny-Boy was so frightened by the noise they made that he scampered out of that field into the next.