A troop of migrating ants were pa.s.sing by, and singing as they marched through the cool forest of gra.s.s. They seemed to be in a hurry. Their crisp morning song, in rhythm with their march, touched the little bee's heart with melancholy.

Few our days on earth shall be, Fast the moments flit; First-cla.s.s robbers such as we Do not care a bit!

They were extraordinarily well armed and looked saucy, bold and dangerous.

The song died away under the leaves of the coltsfoot. But some mischief seemed to have been done there. A rough, hoa.r.s.e voice sounded, and the small leaves of a young dandelion were energetically thrust aside. Maya saw a corpulent blue beetle push its way out. It looked like a half-sphere of dark metal, shimmering with lights of blue and green and occasional black.

It may have been two or even three times her size. Its hard sheath looked as though nothing could destroy it, and its deep voice positively frightened you.

The song of the soldiers, apparently, had roused him out of sleep. He was cross. His hair was still rumpled, and he rubbed the sleep out of his cunning little blue eyes.

"Make way, _I'm_ coming. Make way."

He seemed to think that people should step aside at the mere announcement of his approach.

"Thank the Lord I'm not in his way," thought Maya, feeling very safe in her high, swaying nook of concealment. Nevertheless her heart went pit-a-pat, and she withdrew a little deeper into the flower-bell.

The beetle moved with a clumsy lurch through the wet gra.s.s, presenting a not exactly elegant appearance. Directly under Maya's blossom was a withered leaf. Here he stopped, shoved the leaf aside, and made a step backward. Maya saw a hole in the ground.

"Well," she thought, all a-gog with curiosity, "the things there _are_ in the world. I never thought of such a thing. Life's not long enough for all there is to see."

She kept very quiet. The only sound was the soft pelting of the rain. Then she heard the beetle calling down the hole:

"If you want to go hunting with me, you'll have to make up your mind to get right up. It's already bright daylight." He was feeling so very superior for having waked up first that it was hard for him to be pleasant.

A few moments pa.s.sed before the answer came. Then Maya heard a thin, chirping voice rise out of the hole.

"For goodness' sake, do close the door up there. It's raining in."

The beetle obeyed. He stood in an expectant att.i.tude, his head c.o.c.ked a little to one side, and squinted through the crack.

"Please hurry," he grumbled.

Maya was tense with eagerness to see what sort of a creature would come out of the hole. She crept so far out on the edge of the blossom that a drop of rain fell on her shoulder, and gave her a start. She wiped herself dry.

Below her the withered leaf heaved; a brown insect crept out, slowly. Maya thought it was the queerest specimen she had ever seen. It had a plump body, set on extremely thin, slow-moving legs, and a fearfully thick head, with little upright feelers.

It looked fl.u.s.tered.

"Good morning, Effie dear." The beetle went slim with politeness. He was all politeness, and his body seemed really slim. "How did you sleep? How did you sleep, my precious--my all?"

Effie took his hand rather stonily.

"It can't be, Bobbie," she said. "I can't go with you. We're creating too much talk."

Poor Bobbie looked quite alarmed.

"I don't understand," he stammered. "I don't understand.-- Is our new-found happiness to be wrecked by such nonsense? Effie, think--think the thing over. What do _you_ care _what_ people say? You have your hole, you can creep into it whenever you like, and if you go down far enough, you won't hear a syllable."

Effie smiled a sad, superior smile.

"Bobbie, you don't understand. I have my own views in the matter.-- Besides, there's something else. You have been exceedingly indelicate. You took advantage of my ignorance. You let me think you were a rose-beetle and yesterday the snail told me you are a tumble-bug. A considerable difference! He saw you engaged in--well, doing something I don't care to mention. I'm sure you will now admit that I must take back my word."

Bobbie was stunned. When he recovered from the shock he burst out angrily:

"No, I _don't_ understand. I can't understand. I want to be loved for myself, and not for my business."

"If only it weren't dung," said Effie offishly, "anything but dung, I shouldn't be so particular.-- And please remember, I'm a young widow who lost her husband only three days ago under the most tragic circ.u.mstances--he was gobbled up by the shrewmouse--and it isn't proper for me to be gadding about.

A young widow should lead a life of complete retirement.

So--good-by."

Pop into her hole went Effie, as though a puff of wind had blown her away. Maya would never have thought it possible that anyone could dive into the ground as fast as that.

Effie was gone, and Bobbie stared in blank bewilderment down the empty dark opening, looking so utterly stupid that Maya had to laugh.

Finally he roused, and shook his small round head in angry distress. His feelers drooped dismally like two rain-soaked fans.

"People now-a-days no longer appreciate fineness of character and respectability," he sighed. "Effie is heartless. I didn't dare admit it to myself, but she is, she's absolutely heartless.

But even if she hasn't got the _right feelings_, she ought to have the _good sense_ to be my wife."

Maya saw the tears come to his eyes, and her heart was seized with pity.

But the next instant Bobbie stirred. He wiped the tears away and crept cautiously behind a small mound of earth, which his friend had probably shoveled out of her dwelling. A little flesh-colored earthworm was coming along through the gra.s.s.

It had the queerest way of propelling itself, by first making itself long and thin, then short and thick. Its cylinder of a body consisted of nothing but delicate rings that pushed and groped forward noiselessly.

Suddenly, startling Maya, Bobbie made one step out of his hiding-place, caught hold of the worm, bit it in two, and began calmly to eat the one half, heedless of its desperate wriggling or the wriggling of the other half in the gra.s.s. It was a tiny little worm.

"Patience," said Bobbie, "it will soon be over."

But while he chewed, his thoughts seemed to revert to Effie, his Effie, whom he had lost forever and aye, and great tears rolled down his cheeks.

Maya pitied him from the bottom of her heart.

"Dear me," she thought, "there certainly is a lot of sadness in the world."

At that moment she saw the half of the worm which Bobbie had set aside, making a hasty departure.

"Did you _ever_ see the like!" she cried, surprised into such a loud tone that Bobbie looked around wondering where the sound had come from.

"Make way!" he called.

"But I'm not in your way," said Maya.

"Where are you then? You must be somewhere."

"Up here. Up above you. In the bluebell."

"I believe you, but I'm no gra.s.shopper. I can't turn my head up far enough to see you. Why did you scream?"

"The half of the worm is running away."