Chapter I: Part 1

ANT VENTURES

ANT VENTURES

_By_
BLANCHE ELIZABETH WADE
_Author of “The Island of Make-Believe”
and “The Magic Stone”_

_Pictures by_
HARRISON CADY

RAND MᶜNALLY & COMPANY
CHICAGO NEW YORK

_Copyright, 1924, by_
RAND MᶜNALLY & COMPANY

Made in U. S. A.

THE CONTENTS

PAGE

AROUND THE WORLD FOR A CHANGE 7

AT THE ANGLEWORM’S DOORWAY 17

ON THE PLEASURE BOAT 31

A VENTURE IN POLITENESS 44

AT THE WILD-ROSE TEA HOUSE 54

A VENTURE IN PLEASURE 66

THE BAND CONCERT 78

KEEPING DOWN LUMPS 86

AT MOLESWORTH HALL 98

A VENTURE WITH A PASS 107

AN ANT VENTURE IN GOING UP 115

EXPLORING A TREE 125

A VENTURE OF MOTTOES 136

A VENTURE IN QUESTIONS 146

AT THE HOLLOW-LOG INN 156

THE WOODCHUCK’S DREAM 164

A VENTURE WITH NEW FRIENDS 175

AT CLOVER LODGE 188

WHAT THE YELLOWBIRD SAID 195

THE TWO TRICKS 205

THE ANT VENTURE OF THE CAT-TAIL 215

THE ANT VENTURE OF THE DRAGON
FLY’S TRICK 223

THE ANT VENTURE OF A HAPPY MEETING 230

THE ANT VENTURE OF AN EMBROIDERED
MOTTO 237

ANT VENTURES

AROUND THE WORLD FOR A CHANGE

Once upon a time there was an Ant sitting on a leaf to think. He was tired of working, and his mother had sent him out to hunt for a little green Worm to stow away in the larder, but he did not want to do even that.

“I never saw such a stupid world!” he said aloud. “All there is to do is to carry out the earth all day long, or else go hunting for the family’s food, and I am tired of it all!”

“Ho!” said a voice near him. “All you want is a change. You think you have seen the world, but I will give you something that will cure you. I know your mother well, so you take her this prescription I am writing. Give it to her with my compliments and tell her I said that it is all you need to make you the happiest Ant in the whole wide world.”

The Ant looked, and there sat a Beetle on the same leaf. He had on large, horn-rimmed spectacles, and was writing busily on a physician’s prescription pad. Any one could see he was a doctor. He handed the prescription to the Ant, took off the big spectacles, and said, “Now run along to your mother, and show her this at once.”

The Ant took the prescription, thanked the Beetle, and ran down the stem of the leaf to the ground and back to Ant-Hill Manor, where he lived. He could not read a word of the prescription himself, for whoever could read a physician’s prescription, anyway? No one but the doctor himself and the druggist, I am sure. But at the top of the paper the Ant could read plainly:

ALEXANDER BEETLE BUG, M. D.

“That must mean Alexander Beetle Bug, Meadow Doctor,” thought the Ant.

Well, sir, when he walked into the main doorway of Ant-Hill Manor and showed the paper to his mother, he found that some one besides doctors and druggists could read prescriptions, for she understood every sign scrawled upon the paper. Dr. Bug had been an old schoolmate of hers, and this was a secret code they had used when they wanted to write notes in school. She had to laugh like everything.

“All right,” said she. “Here is the best advice I ever had. My old friend Dr. Bug says you need a change. So go put up your wheelbarrow, which is lying where you left it when you would not work this morning, and close the tool-house door carefully when you come out. By that time I shall have your things ready for you. You may start today.”

Off went the Ant to do as he was told. When he came back, there stood his mother with his best hat in one of her hands, his Sunday suit in another of them, his toothbrush, comb, wash cloth, and soap in a little case in another hand, his best Sunday shoes and stockings in another, and a basket of lunch in another.

“Change your things right away,” said she, “for the sooner you begin your trip, the better.”

He washed himself and put on his best clothes. When he was ready, she gave him his little case, his lunch basket, and his hat and kissed him good-by. He thought she did not seem very sorry about his going, and that was queer, for never before had he been away from her overnight. He did not say anything, though, but put on his nice straw hat with his initials inside--_A. A._ for _Anthony Ant_--and down the steps of Ant-Hill Manor he went while all the other Ants waved their feelers at him. Not one of them cried a tear. He even imagined his mother was smiling as though it were all a joke.

Anyway, he had nothing to do now except to go wherever he wanted to, so he decided to keep to the right and go all the way around the field. That would be going around the whole world, he thought. Off he went, over grass and under grass; up stalks and down stalks; into holes and out of holes; around stones and over stones; across stem bridges and across twig bridges; part way on the rail fence; part way on a log; up a stump and across the stump and down the stump; until he was tired from going such a long stretch at a time, and he sat down to rest and to eat a little of his lunch. He was glad his mother had put so much into the basket, for he was hungry. He took off his best hat, hung it on a short weed near by, and leaned his head against a stout stem. Then he opened the basket and took out some of the lunch.

There were dainty sandwiches made of sliced, cold-boiled caterpillar, some delicious pieces of Butterflies’ wings, and other sandwiches of thinly sliced dried Cricket. In one corner of the basket was a small pot of his favorite meadow-flower honey. There were poppy-seed biscuits too, some clover-sugar cookies, and a huge piece of cold roast Grasshopper which would last him for several meals.

The Ant felt much refreshed after his rest and the lunch. He packed what was left of the food back in the basket and reached for his hat. Ho! but no hat was there! He looked and looked under the weed where he had hung it, and everywhere about the place, and all at once he spied a Field Mouse eating the last of its pretty ribbon hatband. It was too late to save even the band of the hat, and all the Field Mouse would say when the Ant spoke about the matter was that the hat was the best thing he had tasted in a long time. Then off he went to hunt for more best hats to eat, maybe.

Well, to take a trip around the world, and not have a hat to wear, was sad for the Ant, but unless he went home and gave up the trip he would have to go bareheaded. As he was too proud to give up, bareheaded he went, and he tramped all the afternoon, meeting many strange people he never had seen near Ant-Hill Manor. There were Bugs large and small; Bugs that were fierce and Bugs that were kind; strange little Insects; Worms of many different colors; Flies, Moths, and Butterflies of all the old kinds and new kinds too. They were all as happy as could be, and hardly would speak to him, they were so busy. The Ant tried to talk to several of them, but they would not stop their work to listen. They were making their homes, or taking care of them, or hunting for their suppers. He was the only traveler in the world, he thought.

That night he was more tired than he ever had been on his hardest day of work. He ate an early supper and was almost too tired to open the jar of his favorite honey. He ate a clover-sugar cooky and nearly fell asleep over it, and then went to bed under a dry leaf, after carefully hiding all his things, for he remembered what had happened to his hat.

AT THE ANGLEWORM’S DOORWAY

It was a good thing Anthony Ant had not been hungry the night before, for the next morning he was hungrier than ever he had been at home, and he did just wish he had some of the cereal he had found fault with at home the morning before.

But he ate more of the sandwiches and a large piece of the cold roast Grasshopper, and took a drink of water from a little brook near the spot where he had slept. He tried to think plain cold water for breakfast was exactly as good as hot cocoa, which he always had at Ant-Hill Manor in an old-fashioned cup his Grandmother had given him. In fancy letters on one side it said, “For a Good Child.” Then he set off with the remainder of his food packed in the basket, which was much lighter by this time. His shoes felt pretty tight, but he never had worn them for such long tramps as that of the day before. He made up his mind he would not go so far all at once again, as he had plenty of time, and at noon he would take all his shoes off and rest all his feet for an hour.

It was a hot morning and the sun beat down on the Ant’s bare head, so he picked a soft, green leaf, put it on his head, and tied it under his chin with a narrow grass blade. That was much better, and he almost sang one of the nursery rimes he had heard played on his phonograph at home. If his feet had not been so large for his shoes, he was sure he would have sung it, words and all.

He did not feel like singing a little later, for all at once something happened which nearly put an end to him. A large Bird flew out of a tree and pounced down to catch him, and he had barely time to jump into an Angleworm’s open doorway to save his life. He dropped his little case with his dressing things in it, but managed to hang on to his lunch basket. The Bird was a Flicker, and Flickers are so fond of Ants to eat that it does not matter who the Ant is so long as he is an Ant. Even if he was Anthony Ant of Ant-Hill Manor, he would have been eaten just as quickly if the Flicker could have caught him.

The Ant trembled so that all his knees shook, but he kept as still as he could otherwise, and did not move until long after the Bird had flown away. Then once more he had to move so suddenly that this time he almost lost his lunch basket.

The thing that frightened him was an Angleworm. Mrs. Angleworm wanted to know what he meant by blocking up her doorway like that. He tried to explain, but all she would say was, “Go away, sir! Go away at once! I do not wish to buy any books at all, nor sewing-machine needles, nor Mexican drawn work, nor soap, nor flavoring extracts, nor silver polish, nor aluminum ware, nor jewelry, nor teas and coffees, nor hand embroidery, nor doormats, nor rugs, nor clocks, nor perfumery, and I do not want to subscribe to _The Angleworms’ Home Journal_, nor to _The Underground Gentleman_, nor to _The Earth’s Work_, nor to _The Flower-Bed Magazine_, nor to _The Literary Hashed News_, nor to _Little Angleworms’ Companion_, so go away, sir! Go away, this minute!”

Oh, my, but the Ant was scared! She had thought him an agent of some kind when she saw the basket in his middle right hand. He opened his mouth to try to explain the whole matter to her, but she would not let him speak.

“Go away, I tell you!” said she. “I don’t want my piano tuned, and there’s nothing wrong with the electric lights, and you can’t come in to show me how any vacuum cleaner works, nor a washing machine, either! Go away!”

Out tumbled the poor Ant, and off he stumbled toward the right. He took one backward glance to see if she were following him, and he saw that she had found his little dressing case and was opening it. He hurried back, as scared as he was, for he could not let her have that.

When she saw him again, she said, “Yes, I know! You are an agent, just as I thought! This case proves it! You are trying to sell soap and tooth paste and combs and brushes, and all that sort of thing. I won’t have one of them, so take your old sample case away from here at once!” And she threw it at him with such good aim that it nearly hit him on the head.

Poor Anthony Ant! All his things packed so neatly by his mother were spilled all over the ground, and while he hurried as fast as he could to pick them up she scolded and scolded as he never had been scolded before.

At last he was out of hearing of her sharp tongue, and, out of breath, he sat down under a large stone to rest. He felt sure he was safe at last, for the stone was like a ledge, and came out over his head, so no Bird could see him. The ground was smooth and hard, so no Angleworm could be living there, he thought. He untied his green leaf hat, and then pulled off all his best shoes, for his feet were so sore and tired he could not tell which of all the pairs hurt the worst. The shoes he placed all in a row.

By looking at the shadows the sun cast out beyond the stone, he could tell that it was time for dinner. At home there was always a fine, hearty dinner, hot and nourishing, as Mrs. Ant knew well that those who worked hard at such labor as made the muscles exercise needed good, hearty food. But no fine, hearty dinner, hot and nourishing, waited ready for him to eat now. He had only what was left in his lunch basket, and I can tell you that, when he opened the cover and saw how the lunch had gotten mixed up from being all joggled by his hard running, it did not look very appetizing. No, sir-ee! As he tried to scrape the honey back into his jar from which the cover had been shaken, he almost cried, for the honey was full of crumbs from the sandwiches, and the sandwiches looked like old scraps to be thrown away instead of eaten. The filling had all come out, and the clover-sugar cookies were damp and sticky, and the big piece of cold roast Grasshopper might have been almost anything but food from the looks of it. Besides, sand had gotten into the things, and everything he tried to eat was gritty.

There was one good thing about the Ant, anyway. He did not give up, even with aching feet and gritty food to discourage him. He ate what he could and thought that pretty soon, after a rest, he would steal out to see if he could find a juicy berry anywhere. That would refresh him and perhaps make him forget the gritty food he had been forced to eat.

“I think I’ll leave my shoes where they are,” thought he. “They will be safe here, I am sure. It will rest me to go barefoot a bit.”

So he left his row of shoes and also his stockings, but he took along his little case and his basket, for he thought he might find a place to bathe himself, and he might even find a little food to put into his basket. But he did not throw away a bit of the gritty food, for he did not know when he could find any good thing to eat, and he might need even the unappetizing mix-up in his basket before he found anything.

It was rather hard stepping out barefooted at first, for even when he was working at home he had good, stout shoes always, as the Ants of Ant-Hill Manor were different from most Ants to be seen anywhere, as you may have guessed by this time. Also, it was harder to walk, as his feet had been made tender by the long tramp in his best shoes, which were new. But he took a slow gait, and by and by he came to the brook again. He dipped all his feet into the water, and he took a fine bath too, and dried himself in the warm sunshine on a big stone. It made him feel like another Ant, he was so rested. He sat there a long time. Then he began to hunt about for a juicy berry, and for whatever else there might be that Ants like to eat when they are not at home where they can have things put on to the table for them and don’t have to wonder where their meals are to come from.

Across the brook, which was narrow here, he spied a bush that had berries on it, although the season for berries was nearly over. Perhaps you think a little thing like an Ant cannot get across even a narrow brook, but he can. And so could this Ant, for, though he never had taken so long a trip before, yet he knew somehow the many tricks of getting across a brook. He stood on the big stone nearest the edge of the water until a piece of leaf floated down near him. Then he jumped upon the floating leaf and stayed on it until it sailed as far as he wished it to take him. Then, as it bobbed against a stone, he crawled off to that stone out in the stream, and found a narrow bridge of grass root that had lodged near the stone. This bridge took him within jumping distance of another stone, and that stone made him nearer the middle of the brook. There he found a dead branch of tree in the water, and this helped him all the way over to the other side, as it reached from the middle of the stream to the opposite bank.

He was more than glad when, after a long tramp over and under and around things, he came to the berry bush. Up it he went to the very first berry he could see, and took a good taste of the juice. It surely made him fairly glow with happiness once more, for in every creature there is a glow of happiness, whether you believe it or not, even though sometimes the glow of happiness is covered up by his own doings or wrong thoughts. Anyway, for the first time since leaving Ant-Hill Manor, Anthony Ant felt a glow of happiness. He sat for a long time on the stem of the berry, and looked all about him while he rested, and kept tasting the sweet juice of the very ripe berry. What a wise doctor his mother’s old friend was, to be sure! The Ant decided not to go home too soon, but to keep right on taking that good Dr. Alexander Beetle Bug’s prescription and let the others do the work of Ant-Hill Manor.

ON THE PLEASURE BOAT

Anthony Ant’s glow of happiness cheered him for some time, and then he happened to think he had to go back across the brook again after his shoes. He had left his basket and dressing case on the other side too. If he had only known about the berry bush sooner, he would have brought everything over in the first place and saved himself a lot of work. Sitting and thinking about the matter would not do any good, so he took one more taste of a good berry and down he started.

He met many large black Ants going up and down the bush to the berries and back to their homes. But they gave him no more than a passing glance, as they were not out seeing the world, but carrying food to their homes. Those going home had bits of dried berries, sweet to the taste though not juicy, and every Ant attended to his work as hard as possible.

It was not an easy trip back to the brook even after the refreshing berry juice. The Ant had to wait some time after going back over the dead branch to the stone, and over the stone to another stone where the grass bridge was, before he could find anything floating near enough to jump upon for a ferryboat.

At last along came a thin piece of wood. He gave a jump and landed upon it all right, and was settling down to watch for a stone nearer shore, and a chance to get to it, when down on to the wood fluttered a leaf from a tree. On the leaf was a Caterpillar as fuzzy as he could be, but fussy.

“I don’t like Ants on my pleasure boat,” said he. “Get off!”

“O sir, but I can’t!” cried the Ant, much frightened. “I did not know this was your boat. I was just trying to cross the brook and jumped on to the first thing that came near enough to my stone where I was waiting. If I should get off now, I should be drowned!”

“You are a careless person,” said Mr. Caterpillar. “You should have looked first before jumping.”

“But nobody was on the boat then,” answered the Ant.

“It does not make any difference,” said the Caterpillar. “You might have known that I might board it at any time. However, you may stay until there is a chance for you to get off.”

“Oh, thank you!” exclaimed the Ant. “I’ll be very quiet and not rock the boat a bit.”

The fussy old Caterpillar walked up and down his pleasure boat all the time. When he came to one end, he raised his head and, moving it back and forth, looked all about him. Then he turned around and crawled to the other end and did the same thing, He kept this up until all at once the boat bumped against the shore itself, for they had drifted in.

“Well,” said he, “here’s land at last. I may as well get off here as anywhere. You go first, and I’ll see how you manage.”

The Ant was glad to be upon land once more, and lost no time in jumping to the stone from the bobbing bit of wood the Caterpillar called a pleasure boat. The Caterpillar was so fussy that he would not hurry off, but stood talking about his work to be done. The pleasure boat was only a fancy of his, and was really not his, but he was on his way to put himself into the best place he could find for a long sleep till time to be a Butterfly. Traveling was not pleasure for him, but part of his life work. Whether he liked traveling or not, he had to tramp on and on and on, ever so far, before taking that long sleep of his which would be the last of him as a Caterpillar. When he woke from a beautiful, splendiferous dream that would last for a long time, he hoped to find himself a lovely Butterfly.

“I have traveled so long on my feet,” he told the Ant, “that I thought I’d make part of my journey a water trip. That is why I am on this pleasure boat.”

“What makes the boat yours?” asked Anthony Ant, for, now that he was safe on the shore, he was not afraid to ask the Caterpillar a question or two.

“Why,” replied the fussy Caterpillar, “it’s mine because I took it, of course!”

“Oh, but I took it first,” said the Ant. “I was already aboard when you dropped down on to the deck with your leaf from the tree. If just taking a boat makes it belong to you, it is more mine than yours, for I had already taken it, you know.”

“Never mind,” the fuzzy, fussy Caterpillar answered. “The boat is mine now, and I will not quarrel with you. It is wrong to quarrel, anyway, and it is very bad for any one to quarrel before going to sleep. It will spoil the best dream, and I do not intend to spoil the long, lovely one I am going to have. He who goes to bed quarreling and cross gets up ill-tempered and unhappy, and maybe it would spoil my chances of having beautiful colors as a Butterfly. I have chosen purple and gold, and I should like to have wings with fancy scallops on the edges too. So I shall not quarrel one word with you, for if I do I may wake up just a common old everyday sort of Moth, and that would be disgraceful. I should simply crawl away under a leaf and die of shame, I know. So, when I say the boat is mine, do not dispute me! If you do, you will be sorry, for when your long sleep comes your dream will be a bad one, and you will find when you wake up that you are not a beautiful Butterfly at all, but a horrid, plain, mean little Moth Fly, probably.”

“Oh,” said Anthony, “but you see, I am not going to be a Butterfly anyway. I don’t want to be a Butterfly!”

“What!” shouted the Caterpillar, so surprised that he nearly stood up on his tail. “Don’t want to be a Butterfly! I never heard of such a thing in my life! You must be a very bad young person, indeed! Why, sir, the thing is the worst I ever heard! Mercy, me! Not want to be a Butterfly! Oh, my, my!”

“Oh, but Ants do not turn into Butterflies!” explained Anthony, for, as young as he was, he knew that he never would be anything but an Ant if he lived ever so long.

“Don’t tell me that!” cried the fuzzy, fussy Caterpillar. “The thing is unbelievable! Besides, did I not meet you on your long travel? There, sir, that proves you are soon going to take your long sleep and wake up a Butterfly, unless you have spoiled your chances by telling such a wrong story as that! Perhaps you will say you have not been eating all you can hold, up to this time, on purpose to get ready for the long sleep when there will be no chance to eat.”

“No,” answered the Ant, “I have not been eating all I can hold at all, for my food has about given out, and I have been across the stream to refresh myself with the juice of the berries on a large bush. I could eat a lot more food if I could get it.”

“Oh, well,” said the Caterpillar, “that is because you are young, you see. I was hungry all the time till I grew to my full size. By the time you are as large as I am, you will have had all you want to eat. You see, you have made a mistake. Here you are taking the long journey before you have eaten the proper amount. My dear young sir, you have gotten the matter twisted. You are living your life the wrong side around. You are beginning with the traveling, when you should have begun with the eating and kept at it till you had grown as large as you could. It is a lucky thing you happened to find yourself on my pleasure boat, for if you had not met me you would just go on doing everything the wrong way around. Oh, my, my! You might even have tried to begin being a Butterfly without first falling asleep. Only fancy! Now go right away this minute till you find a tender young bush, and don’t you stop eating that bush till you are my size. Then do your traveling, and you will be ready for the long dream time, and wake up a beautiful Butterfly almost as handsome as I shall be. Run along, now!”

“But aren’t you going to land here, too? You said so,” said the Ant, “and you told me to land first so you could see how I did it. Even if I cannot do as you advise me, because no Ant ever turned into a Butterfly, yet I shall be glad to help you get off to this stone if you want me to hang on to the boat to steady it.”

“Certainly not!” declared the fussy, fuzzy Caterpillar. “I have decided to travel a little farther. I shall not land here at all. I am afraid I should quarrel with you after all if I did. Push me off! I cannot have my chances of becoming a beautiful purple and gold Butterfly, with fancy scallops on the edges of my wings, spoiled by landing. Push me off!”

The Ant pushed as well as he could, but it was really the fuzzy, fussy Caterpillar putting his whole weight on the other side of the boat that started it down the stream again. The last that Anthony Ant saw of him he was walking up and down the deck as fussily as ever as the current swept him out of sight around a large stone.

A VENTURE IN POLITENESS

After there was no more to see of the fussy, fuzzy Caterpillar’s fur coat, the Ant sat a moment to think at the edge of the water, for the words of the Caterpillar had given him much to think about. For one thing, he made up his mind that any one might be too fussy altogether about things, as when the Caterpillar talked so much about who owned the boat, and would not sit or stand still while he talked, but walked up and down the boat in that tiresome way. He had learned that, since Caterpillars did not seem to know about Ants, perhaps Ants did not know all there was to know about Caterpillars, so maybe it was wrong for him to call the Caterpillar fussy. Maybe fussiness was just part of being a Caterpillar.

Ho! but there was another thing he had learned, and that was that it was wrong to quarrel, and especially to quarrel the last thing before going to sleep! Of course his mother often had told him that, and there were times when he had been punished hard for quarreling with his brothers and sisters. But, if even fussy, fuzzy old Caterpillars said it was wrong to quarrel, it must be a thing of truth. Otherwise, fussy, fuzzy old Caterpillars would not have bothered about it.

It did not hurt Anthony Ant to do a little thinking like that, for it was not often that he thought of anything but fun, when he was not carting out loads of earth or hunting for food for the family’s larder. But after a bit he began to think of his rows of shoes waiting for him. Then he must find the spot where he had left his basket and little case.

After tramping a little way upstream, he remembered the spot where he had left them was a little farther down instead. You know, Ants often walk along exactly as though they knew where they were going, and then change their minds and are not so sure after all that was the right way, and back they go and maybe start a dozen different ways before they choose the one they had in mind. Anthony Ant found the right spot before he had made more than two tries at it, and there were his things all right. But, sir, what do you think? Why, a Ladybug and a small Spider, Size Two were helping themselves to the things in his lunch basket, if you please!

Anthony Ant was about to shout, “Here, you stop that! That is my basket,” when he suddenly thought of the fussy, fuzzy Caterpillar and how horrid it sounded when the Caterpillar tried to say he owned the boat. And all at once the Ant became more polite than he ever had been at home when he did not like the way things were going.

“I beg your pardon,” said he, “but do you know I left my lunch basket and little dressing case here when I went across the brook after berry juice? So I have come back to get them, if you do not mind.”

Well, sir, you should have seen what happened! Why, the Ladybug and the small Spider, Size Two were so surprised at the politeness, they backed off and sat down and just stared at Anthony. It was some time before either spoke, and then the Ladybug found her voice.

“It is quite true that I am a Ladybug,” said she, “and so it is not unusual for me to be spoken to politely by gentlemen, but in all my life I never have been spoken to so pleasantly by any one. It is all the more to be wondered at when you find me meddling with what does not belong to me, too. Most Bugs of any kind would have scolded me or boxed my ears or at least hollered at me to get out, but you are a real gentleman if ever there was one!”

“Yes,” said the small Spider, Size Two. “Most Bugs would have eaten me up or bitten me or something. I never was so kindly spoken to before when I was poking about other people’s property. You must have been to college, I should say. I have heard that by the time one goes through school and college one has fine manners, and yours are the finest I have seen around here.”

Oh, my! How proud Anthony Ant was, to be sure! He was so glad he had remembered about the Caterpillar before he said the bad words.

“No,” he answered, “I have not been to college at all. I am on a trip around the world, so I am not going to college this year, I am sure.”

“Well,” said the Ladybug, “seeing the world also gives one fine manners, but it depends upon how you go about it, of course. If it is not well managed, it makes some people most disagreeable, and they come back home so rude you would not want to know them.”

“How fine a fellow you must be,” exclaimed the small Spider, Size Two, “to go all around the world in order to get good manners! It must be much harder than going through college.”

Now, Anthony Ant was honest, whatever he wasn’t, and he had to hang his head, for we know very well why he was taking the trip around the world.

So he said, “Oh, I beg your pardon, but you are both mistaken, for I haven’t good manners at all. I was cross when I left home, and I wouldn’t work when my mother asked me to, nor go hunting for things for our family to eat. So Dr. Beetle Bug told my mother I needed a change, and they both have sent me off on this trip.”

“Dr. Beetle Bug, did you say?” asked the Ladybug. “Do you mean Dr. Alexander Beetle Bug?”

“Yes,” said Anthony Ant. “Do you know him?”

“Oh, yes, indeed!” she replied, laughing.

“So do I,” put in the small Spider, Size Two, “and he is one of the most famous doctors in the world. It pays to follow his advice, and when I see him next time I’ll tell him I met you and that you are better already.”

“Tell me,” said the Ladybug, “is this the best lunch you can find? It looks so queer to me. I did not know that Ants ate such strange food.”

“Oh, that is because it has been all joggled up,” explained the Ant, and he told how he had run so hard and fast from the Angleworm.

“It was really and truly a most delicious lunch when Mother put it up for me, and all the sandwiches were wrapped up carefully in waxed paper. But now, dear me, what a mess they are in! And sand has gotten into all the food, but I did not dare to throw it away. It is not easy to find food sometimes. All I have had since eating some of the joggled-up lunch is the berry juice from the berries over the brook. I am going after my shoes and stockings, which I left under a big stone near here. Then I shall take all my things across the brook to the bush and gather some of the dried berries that still are sweet. They will last me till I can find something more nourishing.”

“Why,” said the Ladybug, “I can tell you something that will help you right out of your trouble. Not far from that berry bush is the finest restaurant you ever saw. It is called the Wild-Rose Tea House, and it is of the sort where you go around and help yourself to what you like best, and pay as you go away.”

“It sounds tempting,” said the Ant, “but, you see, Mother did not give me any money, and I have to live on what I can get myself.”

Then up spoke the small Spider, Size Two. “Ho!” cried he. “I have a plan. Let us all go there and have a party. It happens to be my birthday, and I invite you to come to my birthday party. Run along and get your shoes and stockings, Mr. Ant, and we’ll wait for you here. Then we’ll all go over the brook to the Wild-Rose Tea House.”

Well, Anthony felt ashamed to accept the invitation, but they both begged so hard that at last he said he would. Then he hurried after his shoes and stockings.

AT THE WILD-ROSE TEA HOUSE

When Anthony Ant had come back with his shoes and stockings, he first washed himself carefully at the brook, and combed his hair, and brushed his teeth with the nice Marsh-Mint Dental Cream his mother had put into his case for him. The Ladybug and the small Spider, Size Two sat near by watching him and praising the pretty and the nice-smelling toilet articles his mother had put in for him. The Ladybug wrote down the name of his soap in her notebook so she could get some at the first large field drug store she came to. The soap was called Meadow-Scent Soap. The paper it was wrapped in said the soap was the best for the skin and made a good lather even in the coldest and hardest spring water.

“I am more than ever sure, Mr. Ant,” said she, “that if you had not told me you never had been to college I never should have known it. Any one with such good manners as yours, and also such fancy toilet articles, could easily make any one think he had been through the most noted college in the world.”

“You are most kind,” said the Ant. “I can see now that it paid when Mother made me take pains with my washing and dressing, though I used to cry so hard when she was teaching me, and I hated to have my ears washed and squealed like a good fellow.”

“Or a bad fellow, maybe you meant,” suggested the small Spider, Size Two.

“You are right,” the Ant answered. “But I am taking a lot of pains now, for since you have invited me to your birthday party I must look as clean as I can.”

At last his last shoe was on and tied neatly, and he had flicked the dust from the shoes as well as he could with a little tuft of grass he used as a whisk broom, and off the party started. The small Spider, Size Two asked to be allowed to carry the lunch basket for luck. The Ant let him do it, as the small Spider, Size Two really seemed to want to. The three soon found a good place to wait for some floating thing coming downstream they might use for a boat.

It was not long before a fine large piece of wood--a clean flat chip from a tree--came sailing down. It was white and freshly cut from some tree a woodcutter was chopping down in the woods somewhere.

“Oh!” cried the Ladybug. “What a lovely excursion boat! The decks must have been newly scrubbed and the whole thing painted white on purpose for our birthday celebration. It is going to stop, too. See, it is coming straight to the shore right here!”

Sure enough! Any one could see that. It came as though by a sort of magic trick, for the fresh chip sailed as straight toward them as though it had been alive and they had called to it. In fact, Anthony Ant had called to it in his excitement, “Hey, there! Chip, ahoy!”

Even in his excitement he had thought it more suitable to say, “_Chip_, ahoy!” than “_Ship_, ahoy!” you see.

The current brought it to the shore in this quiet pool, though the chip was so large that the end of it still reached the edge of the current and the little boat bobbled a bit--if there _is_ such a word as _bobble_, and if there isn’t there ought to be, for that is what the boat did anyway. Before the Ant could help the Ladybug aboard politely, as he intended to do, she had flown aboard herself, so eager was she to try that snowy-white deck. So the Ant and the small Spider, Size Two tossed the little dressing case and the lunch box on to the boat and then made quick jumps themselves. They were not a second too soon, either, for the current was coaxing the little chip back again to do more than just bobble idly at the edge of the pool. Off it went to the center of the brook as the current told it to, and the fun really began.

“I wish we could sail all day like this,” said the Ladybug with a deep sigh. “It is the best boat I ever have tried, and I have tried a great many different kinds. It smells so nice too, the wood is so sweet. And to be on the water a day like this is a dream of happiness.”

“Well,” said the small Spider, Size Two, “why can’t we come aboard it again, and sail downstream after the party? I almost feel it in my bones that this boat will wait for us till then, and the things I feel in my bones always come true. Even in the matter of the making of a new web house, I go by the feeling in my bones. When I start to plan the house, if the feeling in my bones tells me the place I have chosen for the house is not the right one, I never build there. I start another house; and if the feeling in my bones tells me I am right, I know I am, and I just build the house right off. The feeling in my bones never has failed to tell me the truth. So, as it now tells me we can take this trip after the party, I believe we can.”

The Ladybug clapped her wings up and down for joy at that, and Anthony Ant felt that Dr. Alexander Beetle Bug knew how to write prescriptions. There surely could not be anything better for any one than a change.

Well, sir, the next stop of the chip came sooner than they expected. A little sudden breeze from the side sent them up against a huge water-soaked log that must have lain in the brook for years. The current, acting with the breeze at the same time, made the chip dart suddenly up back of this log where the water was so still that the little boat did not bobble at all, but lay quiet on the surface close to the log.

“There, sir!” exclaimed the small Spider, Size Two. “The feeling in my bones must be true, for the boat is safe enough in this harbor for one while. There’s no danger of anything but a strong breeze from this side taking it away again, and as the wind is the other way we have nothing to worry about.”

They crawled up the log to the top. The Ladybug could have flown across the brook as well as not, of course, instead of having to wait for a boat to help her part way over. But often she chose to travel as the Bugs that cannot fly travel; and, as she was making this trip with these two that could not fly, she stayed with them.

It was a long trip to the Wild-Rose Tea House from that landing place, but they made it in short time. Soon they were seated, as cosy as you please, about a green leaf table with an extra leaf put in so they would not be crowded, and they had the daintiest birthday-special luncheon, as it was called, served to them by the Rosebug waiter. The dishes were shaped like wild roses, and there was a bit of rose flavor in nearly all the food that was served. Sandwiches of rose petals were cut into rose shape. Instead of lettuce, rose leaves were used shredded into ribbons, and the salad, made of wild berries and woods small fruits, was arranged on the leaf ribbons. When the ice cream came, it was found to be pink and in the form of roses. Even the Ladybug, who had been there before, had to say, “Oh!” it was so delicious. There was a birthday cake too, with candles of pink, and the candles gave out rose scent while burning. This was no common cafeteria meal.

Then came a surprise Ant Venture for the Ant. At a sign from the small Spider, Size Two, the waiter placed Anthony’s lunch basket before Anthony and raised the cover. Inside, in the most delicate pink Japanese napkins of rose pattern, was enough of each thing served at the Wild-Rose Tea House to last Anthony for several meals. A card tied to the handle with pink ribbon said:

FOR A PERFECT GENTLEMAN
WITH THE COMPLIMENTS OF
DOT-TY LADYBUG
AND
WEB-STER SPIDER

Oh, my, my, my! Such a glow went all through Anthony Ant that he felt as pink as the pinkest rose that ever blossomed on that bush. And to think that all this joy had come to him because he had not said the cross words he nearly said when he found these friends meddling with his basket! Why, he was beginning to have a feeling in his bones, too, and the feeling in his bones told him that all that Mother Antoinette Ant ever had told him about being kind and calm and speaking gently was perfectly true!

A VENTURE IN PLEASURE

The Ant noticed that before they left the Wild-Rose Tea House the Ladybug and the small Spider, Size Two, after a talk aside with the waiter, each had a confectioner’s box to carry. He thought probably they had bought some of the wild-rose fancy cakes to take home to their families. But he was so busy thinking how to say “Thank you” to them for their present to him, and for the party too, that he thought no more about the boxes, and they all went back down the bush to the place where the log would bring them to the boat once more.

They spied the white chip gleaming against the dark water below them, as safe as possible. It did not take them many minutes to get aboard and to stow their parcels in a space in the middle where no bobbling would jubble them off into the water. _Jubble_ is a most uncommon word too, and means what would happen if the boat should bobble so hard that the things would be thrown off into the water. Then they sat down to wait, as there was nothing else to do. They all three tried to poke the boat away from the log by pushing against the log as hard as they could with their hands all at once. But, in spite of all the hands they had among the three of them, there was not strength enough, with all of them pushing, to send the boat out into the free water.

“The wind will change sooner or later,” said the small Spider, Size Two. “That is one thing always true about wind--it has to change sooner or later. Sometimes it is sooner and sometimes it is later. This may be one of the later times, but there is nothing easier to do than waiting. While we are waiting we can plan about how far we can go and how long we can stay.”

“If we have to start late, we cannot stay long nor go far,” said the Ladybug, “for there will be the journey back to take, except for you, Mr. Ant. You won’t have to go back, of course, since you are traveling around the world. All you will have to do will be to land when we do, and keep on going to the right. But we have families who need us, so we have to go back.”

“That is so,” the Ant answered, and already he felt sorry to think that the trip with these friends could not go right on. If only they would go around the world with him! He teased them to say they would, but they said that, as much as they would like to travel with him, they must not. Besides, they added, they were not in need of a change, as they were so happy at home with their families that the families were quite all the change they needed.

“Anyway, we can have a happy time all the afternoon,” said the Ladybug, “for our families will not need us till night. Never think about the saying good-by part of a pleasure until the good-by part of it comes, is my motto.”

“That is a fine motto,” said the small Spider, Size Two. “I wish I had it embroidered and framed to hang over the mantelpiece in every house I build.”

“Some day I shall be glad to embroider it for you,” said the Ladybug.

“Oh, and will you embroider one for me, too?” asked the Ant eagerly. “I am sure Mother would be so pleased, for she says things that sound like that. I’ll ask her to invite you to pay us a long visit when I get back, if you will. You’d love Ant-Hill Manor, I know!”

“But you don’t love it, do you?” said the Ladybug. “You were so eager to leave it, you see.”

“Well,” replied the Ant, looking much ashamed of himself, “to tell you the truth, I think it was the work I wanted to leave more than it was the home.”

“Well, the change will show you a grand mistake in that way of thinking,” the Ladybug told him, “but I shall be glad to embroider the motto for you if you really care to have it.”

“Oh, thank you!” cried the Ant. “Give me your address, and when I come back from my trip I shall be glad to call for it some day, and bring you the invitation to our home at the same time.”

“It is Knot-Hole Barkalow,” said the Ladybug, “and it is in the knot hole of the big elm tree nearest the place you found us. My house is really a small bungalow, but it fitted the house better to call it a _barkalow_. You come up the tree and tap seven times, and I shall know who it is. In case you get no answer, you will know I am out on a little marketing trip or doing errands that have to be done, so walk in and make yourself at home till I come back.”

“Thank you,” said the Ant, and wrote the address in his notebook.

And then, oh me, oh my! There was a frightful splash in the water near them, and the little boat bobbled so hard that not only their baggage but they themselves were nearly jubbled into the brook.

“What was that?” cried Anthony Ant, much scared.

“It must have been an earthquake!” said the Ladybug.

“More like a waterquake, I should say!” gasped the small Spider, Size Two, who had swallowed some of the water that splashed into his face.

“Oh, now I know what it was!” cried the Ladybug. “It was only a Bullfrog jumping from the log. This must be his diving pool. Oh, but look! We are sailing at last!”