Among the Meadow People

by Clara Dillingham Pierson

  The first thing our little Spider remembered was being crowded with alot of other little Spiders in a tiny brown house. This tiny house hadno windows, and was very warm and dark and stuffy. When the wind blew,the little Spiders would hear it rushing through the forest near by, andwould feel their round brown house swinging like a cradle. It wasfastened to a bush by the edge of the forest, but they could not knowthat, so they just wiggled and pushed and ate the food that they foundin the house, and wondered what it all meant. They didn't even guessthat a mother Spider had made the brown house and put the food in it forher Spider babies to eat when they came out of their eggs. She had putthe eggs in, too, but the little Spiders didn't remember the time whenthey lay curled up in the eggs. They didn't know what had been nor whatwas to be--they thought that to eat and wiggle and sleep was all oflife. You see they had much to learn.

  One morning the little Spiders found that the food was all gone, andthey pushed and scrambled harder than ever, because they were hungry andwanted more. Exactly what happened nobody knew, but suddenly it grewlight, and some of them fell out of the house. All the rest scrambledafter, and there they stood, winking and blinking in the brightsunshine, and feeling a little bit dizzy, because they were on a shakyweb made of silvery ropes.

  Just then the web began to shake even more, and a beautiful great motherSpider ran out on it. She was dressed in black and yellow velvet, andher eight eyes glistened and gleamed in the sunlight. They had neverdreamed of such a wonderful creature.

  "Well, my children," she exclaimed, "I know you must be hungry, and Ihave breakfast all ready for you." So they began eating at once, and themother Spider told them many things about the meadow and the forest, andsaid they must amuse themselves while she worked to get food for them.There was no father Spider to help her, and, as she said, "Growingchildren must have plenty of good plain food."

  You can just fancy what a good time the baby Spiders had. There were ahundred and seventy of them, so they had no chance to grow lonely, evenwhen their mother was away. They lived in this way for quite a while,and grew bigger and stronger every day. One morning the mother Spidersaid to her biggest daughter, "You are quite old enough to work now, andI will teach you to spin your web."

  The little Spider soon learned to draw out the silvery ropes from thepocket in her body where they were made and kept, and very soon she hadone fastened at both ends to branches of the bush. Then her mother madeher walk out to the middle of her rope bridge, and spin and fasten twomore, so that it looked like a shining cross. After that was done, themother showed her something like a comb, which is part of a Spider'sfoot, and taught her how to measure, and put more ropes out from themiddle of the cross, until it looked like the spokes of a wheel.

  The little Spider got much discouraged, and said, "Let me finish itsome other time; I am tired of working now."

  The mother Spider answered, "No, I cannot have a lazy child."

  The little one said, "I can't ever do it, I know I can't."

  "Now," said the mother, "I shall have to give you a Spider scolding. Youhave acted as lazy as the Tree Frog says boys and girls sometimes do. Hehas been up near the farm-house, and says that he has seen therechildren who do not like to work. The meadow people could hardly believesuch a thing at first. He says they were cross and unhappy children, andno wonder! Lazy people are never happy. You try to finish the web, andsee if I am not right. You are not a baby now, and you must work and getyour own food."

  So the little Spider spun the circles of rope in the web, and made theseropes sticky, as all careful spiders do. She ate the loose ends andpieces that were left over, to save them for another time, and when itwas done, it was so fine and perfect that her brothers and sisterscrowded around, saying, "Oh! oh! oh! how beautiful!" and asked themother to teach them. The little web-spinner was happier than she hadever been before, and the mother began to teach her other children. Butit takes a long time to teach a hundred and seventy children.

  THE BEETLE WHO DID NOT LIKE CATERPILLARS

  One morning early in June, a fat and shining May Beetle lay on his backamong the grasses, kicking his six legs in the air, and wriggling aroundwhile he tried to catch hold of a grass-blade by which to pull himselfup. Now, Beetles do not like to lie on their backs in the sunshine, andthis one was hot and tired from his long struggle. Beside that, he wasvery cross because he was late in getting his breakfast, so when he didat last get right side up, and saw a brown and black Caterpillarwatching him, he grew very ill-mannered, and said some things of whichhe should have been ashamed.

  "Oh, yes," he said, "you are quick enough to laugh when you thinksomebody else is in a fix. I often lie on my back and kick, just forfun." (Which was not true, but when Beetles are cross they are notalways truthful.)

  "Excuse me," said the Caterpillar, "I did not mean to hurt yourfeelings. If I smiled, it was because I remembered being in the sameplight myself yesterday, and what a time I had smoothing my furafterwards. Now, you won't have to smooth your fur, will you?" she askedpleasantly.

  "No, I'm thankful to say I haven't any fur to smooth," snapped theBeetle. "I am not one of the crawling, furry kind. My family wear darkbrown, glossy coats, and we always look trim and clean. When we want tohurry, we fly; and when tired of flying, we walk or run. We have twokinds of wings. We have a pair of dainty, soft ones, that carry usthrough the air, and then we have a pair of stiff ones to cover over thesoft wings when we come down to the earth again. We are the finestfamily in the meadow."

  "I have often heard of you," said the Caterpillar, "and am very glad tobecome acquainted."

  "Well," answered the Beetle, "I am willing to speak to you, of course,but we can never be at all friendly. A May Beetle, indeed, in companywith a Caterpillar! I choose my friends among the Moths, Butterflies,and Dragon-flies,--in fact, _I_ move in the upper circles."

  "Upper circles, indeed!" said a croaking voice beside him, which madethe Beetle jump, "I have hopped over your head for two or three years,when you were nothing but a fat, white worm. _You'd_ better not put onairs. The fine family of May Beetles were all worms once, and they hadto live in the earth and eat roots, while the Caterpillars were in thesunshine over their heads, dining on tender green leaves and flowerbuds."

  The May Beetle began to look very uncomfortable, and squirmed as thoughhe wanted to get away, but the Tree Frog, for it was the Tree Frog, wenton: "As for your not liking Caterpillars, they don't stay Caterpillars.Your new acquaintance up there will come out with wings one of thesedays, and you will be glad enough to know him." And the Tree Frog hoppedaway.

  The May Beetle scraped his head with his right front leg, and then saidto the Caterpillar, who was nibbling away at the milkweed: "You know, Iwasn't really in earnest about our not being friends. I shall be veryglad to know you, and all your family."

  "Thank you," answered the Caterpillar, "thank you very much, but I havebeen thinking it over myself, and I feel that I really could not befriendly with a May Beetle. Of course, I don't mind speaking to you oncein a while, when I am eating, and getting ready to spin my cocoon. Afterthat it will be different. You see, then I shall belong to one of thefinest families in the meadow, the Milkweed Butterflies. _We_ shall eatnothing but honey, and dress in soft orange and black velvet. _We_ shallnot blunder and bump around when we fly. _We_ shall enjoy visiting withthe Dragon-flies and Moths. I shall not forget you altogether, I daresay, but I shall feel it my duty to move in the upper circles, where Ibelong. Good-morning."

  THE YOUNG ROBIN WHO WAS AFRAID TO FLY.

  During the days when the four beautiful green-blue eggs lay in the nest,Mrs. Robin stayed quite closely at home. She said it was a very goodplace, for she could keep her eggs warm and still see all that washappening. The rail-end on which they had built was on the meadow sideof the fence, over the tallest grasses and the graceful stalks ofgolden-rod. Here the Garter Snake drew his shining body through thetangled green, and here the Tree Frog often came for a quiet nap.

  Just outside the fe
nce the milkweeds grew, with every broad, pale greenleaf slanting upward in their spring style. Here the MilkweedCaterpillars fed, and here, too, when the great balls of tiny dull pinkblossoms dangled from the stalks, the Milkweed Butterflies hung all daylong. All the teams from the farm-house passed along the quiet,grass-grown road, and those which were going to the farm as well. WhenMrs. Robin saw a team coming, she always settled herself more deeplyinto her nest, so that not one of her brick-red breast feathers showed.Then she sat very still, only turning her head enough to watch the teamas it came near, passed, and went out of sight down the road. Sometimesshe did not even have to turn her head, for if she happened to be facingthe road, she could with one eye watch the team come near, and with theother watch it go away. No bird, you know, ever has to look at anythingwith both eyes at once.

  After the young Robins had outgrown their shells and broken and thrownthem off, they were naked and red and blind. They lay in a heap in thebottom of the nest, and became so tangled that nobody but a bird couldtell which was which. If they heard their father or their mother flyingtoward them, they would stretch up their necks and open their mouths.Then each would have some food poked down his throat, and would liestill until another mouthful was brought to him.

  When they got their eyes open and began to grow more down, they weregood little Robins and did exactly as they were told. It was easy to begood then, for they were not strong enough to want to go elsewhere, andthey had all they wanted to eat. At night their mother sat in the nestand covered them with her soft feathers. When it rained she also didthis. She was a kind and very hard-working mother. Mr. Robin workedquite as hard as she, and was exceedingly proud of his family.

  But when their feathers began to grow, and each young Robin's sharpquills pricked his brothers and sisters if they pushed against him, thenit was not so easy to be good. Four growing children in one little roundbed sometimes found themselves rather crowded. One night Mrs. Robin saidto her husband: "I am all tired out. I work as long as daylight lastsgetting food for those children, and I cannot be here enough to teachthem anything."

  "Then they must learn to work for themselves," said Mr. Robin decidedly."They are surely old enough."

  "Why, they are just babies!" exclaimed his wife. "They have hardly anytails yet."

  "They don't need tails to eat with," said he, "and they may as wellbegin now. I will not have you get so tired for this one brood."

  Mrs. Robin said nothing more. Indeed, there was nothing more to besaid, for she knew perfectly well that her children would not eat withtheir tails if they had them. She loved her babies so that she almostdisliked to see them grow up, yet she knew it was right for them toleave the nest. They were so large that they spread out over the edgesof it already, and they must be taught to take care of themselves beforeit was time for her to rear her second brood.

  The next morning all four children were made to hop out on to the rail.Their legs were not very strong and their toes sprawled weakly around.Sometimes they lurched and almost fell. Before leaving the nest they hadfelt big and very important; now they suddenly felt small and young andhelpless. Once in a while one of them would hop feebly along the railfor a few steps. Then he would chirp in a frightened way, let his headsettle down over his speckled breast, slide his eyelids over his eyes,and wait for more food to be brought to him.

  Whenever a team went by, the oldest child shut his eyes. He thought theycouldn't see him if he did that. The other children kept theirs open andwatched to see what happened. Their father and mother had told them towatch, but the timid young Robin always shut his eyes in spite of that.

  "We shall have trouble with him," said Mrs. Robin, "but he must be madeto do as he is told, even if he is afraid." She shut her bill verytightly as she spoke, and Mr. Robin knew that he could safely trust thebringing-up of his timid son to her.

  Mrs. Robin talked and talked to him, and still he shut his eyes everytime that he was frightened. "I can't keep them open," he would say,"because when I am frightened I am always afraid, and I can't be bravewhen I am afraid."

  "That is just when you must be brave," said his mother. "There is no usein being brave when there is nothing to fear, and it is a great dealbraver to be brave when you are frightened than to be brave when you arenot." You can see that she was a very wise Robin and a good mother. Itwould have been dreadful for her to let him grow up a coward.

  At last the time came when the young birds were to fly to the ground andhop across the road. Both their father and their mother were there toshow them how. "You must let go of the rail," they said. "You will neverfly in the world unless you let go of the rail."

  Three of the children fluttered and lurched and flew down. The timidyoung Robin would not try it. His father ordered and his mother coaxed,yet he only clung more closely to his rail and said, "I can't! I'mafraid!"

  At last his mother said: "Very well. You shall stay there as long asyou wish, but we cannot stay with you."

  Then she chirped to her husband, and they and the three brave childrenwent across the road, talking as they went. "Careful!" she would say."Now another hop! That was fine! Now another!" And the father flutteredaround and said: "Good! Good! You'll be grown-up before you know it."When they were across, the parents hunted food and fed their three bravechildren, tucking the mouthfuls far into their wide-open bills.

  The timid little Robin on the fence felt very, very lonely. He washungry, too. Whenever he saw his mother pick up a mouthful of food, hechirped loudly: "Me! Me! Me!" for he wanted her to bring it to him. Shepaid no attention to him for a long time. Then she called: "Do you thinkyou can fly? Do you think you can fly? Do you think?"

  The timid little Robin hopped a few steps and chirped but never lifteda wing. Then his mother gave each of the other children a big mouthful.

  The Robin on the fence huddled down into a miserable little bunch, andthought: "They don't care whether I ever have anything to eat. No, theydon't!" Then he heard a rush of wings, and his mother stood before himwith a bunch in her bill for him. He hopped toward her and she ran away.Then he sat down and cried. She hopped back and looked lovingly at him,but couldn't speak because her bill was so full. Across the road theRobin father stayed with his brave children and called out, "Earn it, myson, earn it!"

  The young Robin stretched out his neck and opened his bill--but hismother flew to the ground. He was so hungry--so very, very hungry,--thatfor a minute he quite forgot to be afraid, and he leaned toward her andtoppled over. He fluttered his wings without thinking, and the first heknew he had flown to the ground. He was hardly there before his motherwas feeding him and his father was singing: "Do you know what you did?Do you know what you did? Do you know?"

  Before his tail was grown the timid Robin had become as brave as any ofthe children, for, you know, after you begin to be brave you always wantto go on. But the Garter Snake says that Mrs. Robin is the bravest ofthe family.

  THE CRICKETS' SCHOOL

  In one corner of the meadow lived a fat old Cricket, who thought a greatdeal of himself. He had such a big, shining body, and a way of chirpingso very loudly, that nobody could ever forget where he lived. He was avery good sort of Cricket, too, ready to say the most pleasant things toeverybody, yet, sad to relate, he had a dreadful habit of boasting. Hehad not always lived in the meadow, and he liked to tell of thewonderful things he had seen and done when he was younger and lived upnear the white farm-house.

  When he told these stories of what he had done, the big Crickets aroundhim would not say much, but just sit and look at each other. The littleCrickets, however, loved to hear him talk, and would often come to thedoor of his house (which was a hole in the ground), to beg him to tellthem more.

  One evening he said he would teach them a few things that all littleCrickets should know. He had them stand in a row, and then began: "Withwhat part of your body do you eat?"

  "With our mouths," all the little Crickets shouted.

  "With what part of your body do you run and leap?"

/>   "Our legs," they cried.

  "Do you do anything else with your legs?"

  "We clean ourselves with them," said one.

  "We use them and our mouths to make our houses in the ground," saidanother.

  "Oh yes, and we hear with our two front legs," cried one bright littlefellow.

  "That is right," answered the fat old Cricket. "Some creatures hear withthings called ears, that grow on the sides of their heads, but for mypart, I think it much nicer to hear with one's legs, as we do."

  "Why, how funny it must be not to hear with one's legs, as we do," criedall the little Crickets together.

  "There are a great many queer things to be seen in the great world,"said their teacher. "I have seen some terribly big creatures with onlytwo legs and no wings whatever."

  "How dreadful!" all the little Crickets cried. "We wouldn't think theycould move about at all."

  "It must be very hard to do so," said their teacher; "I was very sorryfor them," and he spread out his own wings and stretched his six legs toshow how he enjoyed them.

  "But how can they sing if they have no wings?" asked the bright littleCricket.

  "They sing through their mouths, in much the same way that the birdshave to. I am sure it must be much easier to sing by rubbing one's wingstogether, as we do," said the fat old teacher. "I could tell you manyqueer things about these two-legged creatures, and the houses in whichthey live, and perhaps some day I will. There are other largefour-legged creatures around their homes that are very terrible, but, mychildren, I was never afraid of any of them. I am one of the truly bravepeople who are never frightened, no matter how terrible the sight. Ihope, children, that you will always be brave, like me. If anythingshould scare you, do not jump or run away. Stay right where you are,and----"