Читать книгу Cot and Cradle Stories - Catharine Parr Traill - Страница 7

The Bees sent a drone from the hive to say that as it was such a fine day they did not like to waste so many hours in idleness, but as soon as the flowers began to close they would arrange their dresses and join the dancers. They sent a present of some honey by the drone. This was most gratefully received, and Squire Bombybus asked the bearer to stay and join the dance.

"I should be delighted to accept your kind invitation," he replied, "but the fact is I never could move quickly enough to learn to dance even the slow minuet, but as I am a good bass musician when not hurried, I will be happy to help the band."

Among the flies were the green and the brown Blow-flies (who, by the way, were only admitted out of respect to Mr. Buz); the Soldier-fly, with his red jacket; the Musk-fly, with a splendid new suit of crimson, green and gold; the slender Wasp-fly, in his golden and black coat; the green Drake-fly, dressed in emerald green and starry eyes; the May-fly in her elegant gauze dress, and many others in robes trimmed with glittering spangles, whose names could not be learned owing to the fluttering and buzzing and humming that filled the air during the arrival of visitors from every quarter.

Greatly to the annoyance of the more aristocratic of the company, a number of House and Horse-flies, as well as other common flies, crowded into the assembly. All attempts to expel these intruders were in vain, as they concealed themselves under the leaves of the oak tree. The Wasps, who are always ready for a fray, proposed making a general slaughter of them, but Mr. Buz, having a kindly feeling for his poor relations, petitioned that they might be allowed to remain if they promised to keep at a respectful distance and did not intrude among the grandees.

The request was granted, and the flies gratefully accepted the condition. They soon formed reels and cotillons, a few light, lively airs, piped by a band of gnats from the lake-shore, and the bagpipes, played by a drone, providing excellent music.

Of Beetles there was a great attendance, many dressed in gorgeous and shining attire; the great red Lady-bird and the spotted yellow Lady-bird, besides a number of black beetles both large and small. They all displayed suits of delicate gauze, which few people knew they possessed, as they are in the habit of keeping them carefully folded up, seldom showing them on common occasions.

Some anger might have been excited by the presence of that insect of evil reputation, the Earwig, but being disguised in a long and very fine pair of gauze wings, few recognized him, and he passed in the crowd.

Later in the evening Mr. Twirl, the cockchafer, came with his family, and the Bees, having brushed their black velvets and cleaned themselves from any wax or honey that might have stuck to them, also made their appearance. They did not dance much, but willingly lent their aid to the musicians.

Just as the dancing commenced, a bustle and chirping was heard, and a number of Locusts and Grasshoppers skipped lightly into the midst of the company; some in brown and pink, others in green hunting coats. One of the latter, named Gryllus, leaped over the heads of a party of Copper Beetles (who were chatting to some young Lady-birds, engaging them for a country dance), and presented himself before the great green Dragon-fly to request that he might be allowed to take part in the next set.

Mr. Chirp, the cricket, seconded the request, assuring their host that the grasshoppers and locusts were, like the crickets, the best horn-pipe dancers and singers in the country.

Their host having graciously granted the petition, the whole party sprang off to look for partners.

Scarcely had this matter been satisfactorily settled when a dispute arose over the intrusion of a band of Harvestmen and Harry-longlegs.

Mr. Chirp hurried forward to interpose and do his duty as steward. With his most dignified chirrup he represented to them the impropriety of persons of their low degree thus thrusting themselves upon those who filled a higher station.

Upon this a Harvestman stood on tiptoe and asked what he meant.

"In the first place," said he, with a spiderish grin, "I am seventh or eighth cousin to Mr. Tick, the death-watch, and I am considered one of the best dancers of the present day. Indeed, I will not yield the palm to any but my friend Harry-longlegs, who can dance a minuet on the water, and has the honour of being the great-grandfather to the minstrels."

On hearing this, Mr. Chirp thought he had better not run the risk of giving offence to the minstrels by putting a slight on their great-grandfather; then, too, Mr. Tick, who was a ticklish sort of old fellow to deal with, might walk off in a huff and leave the company without the means of knowing the time of day.

Dancing now commenced with great spirit on every side. The ball was opened by the great green Dragon-fly and one of the Painted Ladies, who all were agreed was the belle of the ball. The Butterflies fluttered through the quadrilles in fine style; the Beetles preferred country dances, and while Mr. Twirl, the cockchafer, arranged a reel of eight over the oak tree, the Harvestmen went through the figures of a rustic dance with great skill and grace.

The pleasure of the evening was a little disturbed by the bad behaviour of the Hornets and Wasps. They crowded around the honey and sweets, and when Mr. Hum and his assistant, Mr. Buz, begged them to desist—for they feared lest there would be none of the dainties left for the rest of the company—they darted out their long stings and threatened a regular battle. It was not until the Dragon-fly appeared that these ill-behaved guests could be induced to return to the dance. They did so in so bad a temper that they quarrelled with their partners, killed two or three honest black Beetles who chanced to stand in their way, and maimed several flies in so cruel a manner that all chance of the poor things ever being able to dance again was quite despaired of. Finally, having made themselves as disagreeable as possible, they left the ball to go marauding in the Squire's garden. It was little to be wondered at if they were followed by the hisses and maledictions of the whole party.

As soon as the dew began to fall the Butterflies proposed going home, to the regret of all, especially the Dragon-fly, who tried to persuade them to stay another hour. The prudent Emperor, however, wisely declined to risk the health and appearance of any of his train, and left at the time they had appointed. Some few silly little Butterflies, who had not been hatched many hours, refused to obey his summons. Hiding themselves under the leaves until the last fluttering of papilio wings had died away in the distance, they came out again and rejoined the dance.

The green Dragon-fly lamented the departure of the Painted Lady, but roused himself to receive General and Mrs. Sphinx, who just then arrived. They were very richly dressed, chiefly in crimson and brown, with plumes of feathers on their heads. Some of the members of their train were really magnificently attired, especially the Tiger Moths. There were also some young ladies among them in robes of exquisite whiteness, entirely composed of ostrich feathers, a costume that was most becoming to their black eyes and fair complexion.

The Death's-head Moth, to be sure, produced a slight chill on his arrival, but this was politely attributed to the falling dew.

Mr. Hum introduced the Sphinx party to the Dragon-fly, Squire Bombybus having disappeared from his post as Steward. Indeed, it was rumoured among the guests that he had drunk too much nectar, and had retired to the shelter of a white water-lily on the lake, as he had been seen pulling on his black velvet night-cap very near the place where the lilies grew. Mr. Chirp thought it wise to exalt Mr. Hum to the dignity of Deputy Steward, in the place of the departed Squire Bombybus.

As soon as it was dusk a brilliant display of light was provided by four dozen Fire-flies that had been hired for the occasion. These lovely moving lamps shed a soft refulgent glory on the scene, those stationed on the lake-shore adding greatly to the effect by the reflection of their bright beams on the surface of the water. The stars above and the glow-worms on the dewy grass beneath formed an illumination, the brilliancy of which could only be realized by those who were present at the fête.

After supper the dancing was resumed with unabated enjoyment. In spite of Mr. Tick's warning of the lateness of the hour, and that evil persons were about, the nightingale's song from the thicket near by sounded so sweet and made such an addition to their band of music that no one cared to break up the party.

It would have been well for those giddy insects if they had listened to the warning voice of good Mr. Tick, the death-watch. Just as the Dragon-fly was whirling through a waltz with one of General Sphinx's daughters, a sudden rushing sound was heard. The music ceased. Terror and dismay made the heart of every insect quake, as, attracted by the sound of revelry, three nightingales and a swarm of bats bore down upon them. A most dreadful slaughter ensued. Those who escaped the beaks of the nightingales fell an easy prey to the teeth of the bats, who swept them down on every side with their flapping wings.

The glow-worms, betrayed by their own light, were pounced upon by the nightingales, who soon made an end of them despite their cries for mercy.

The great green Dragon-fly was found next morning, a floating corpse on the bosom of the lake, where he had either thrown himself in a fit of despair or been swept down by the wings of the bats.

When the Bees and Butterflies heard the sad tale, they rejoiced that they had gone home in proper time, and thus escaped the melancholy fate of the thoughtless, giddy creatures, who, in the midst of their gaiety, had fallen a prey to the bats and the nightingales.