"Come on!" he urged her with a grin which she could not see. "Let"s get to the clover field, for I like to see people work."
"You do, eh?" snapped Peppery Polly.
"Yes! Watching others work is play for me," he remarked cheerfully. "And I hope to have as much fun to-night as I would have had if I"d gone to the dance over near the swamp."
"Are you fond of music?" Peppery Polly asked him suddenly.
"Am I?" he exclaimed. "I should say I was!"
"Then tell me how you like this," she said. And she began to sing the most terrible song that Freddie Firefly had ever heard in all his life.
XII
A TERRIBLE SONG
It was no wonder that Freddie Firefly grew uneasy again as he listened to the song of Peppery Polly b.u.mblebee, while they flew towards the clover field through the darkness. The chorus, especially, filled him with alarm. And he shuddered as the disagreeable honey-maker sang it:
"I"ve never learned to take a joke; So if you try to trick me, My sting in you I"ll quickly poke-- You"ll find that it will p.r.i.c.k ye!
It feels like fire--though twice as hot.
And I would rather sting than not!"
"How do you like that?" Peppery Polly inquired, after she had finished her song.
"You have a beautiful voice," Freddie Firefly hastened to tell her.
"Yes--of course!" she agreed. "But I refer to the words. What do you think of them?"
"I think they"re awful!" Freddie Firefly cried; for his companion had scared the truth out of him before he stopped to think how it would sound.
"Quite right!" said Peppery Polly. "I made up that song. And I flatter myself it"s about the worst I ever heard." To Freddie Firefly"s relief, she seemed quite pleased.
He was able to draw a deep breath again as they reached the field of red clover, where Peppery Polly b.u.mblebee settled quickly upon a clover-top and began sucking up the sweet nectar with her long tongue. For some time she worked busily without saying a word. And indeed, how could she have spoken with her tongue buried deep in the heart of a clover blossom?
But when she withdrew her tongue and flitted from one clover-top to another, she never failed to fix her wicked eyes on Freddie Firefly and demand "more light--and be quick about it!"
Since no harm had yet fallen him, he began to wonder after a while if Peppery Polly"s bark was not worse than her bite--or perhaps it would be better to say that he wondered if her song was not worse than her sting.
Anyhow, he knew that he was very tired of her masterful way of speaking to him. And he soon determined to play another trick on her.
"Here"s a big blossom you haven"t tasted!" he called to her suddenly.
And Peppery Polly--thinking that Freddie meant a clover blossom--hastened to a bloom that Freddie pointed out to her.
She settled upon it quickly. And the next moment Peppery Polly gave a sharp cry of mingled rage and pain.
"What"s the matter?" Freddie Firefly asked her.
"Matter!" she exclaimed. "It"s a thistle--and I"ve p.r.i.c.ked myself badly."
"Why, so it is a thistle blossom!" said Freddie Firefly. "It"s about the same color as a clover head; and I suppose you didn"t know the difference in the dark."
"The question is, did YOU know the difference?" Peppery Polly screamed--for she was terribly angry.
"Really, I must decline to answer when you speak to me in such a tone,"
said Freddie Firefly. And he was quite surprised that the furious honey-maker didn"t dart towards him and try to sink her sting into him.
But nothing of the sort happened. And Freddie soon saw that Peppery Polly was in some kind of trouble.
XIII
CAUGHT BY A THISTLE
"You"ll have to help me," Peppery Polly b.u.mblebee said to Freddie Firefly through the darkness. "If you"d been a little less stingy with that light of yours I wouldn"t have made the mistake of thinking this thistle was a clover blossom."
"Well, there"s nectar in it, isn"t there?" he inquired.
"I suppose so," she answered. "But I can"t get it. And I"m so daubed with the sticky stuff that"s spread right where I put my feet that I can"t free myself."
Freddie flew quite close to her and flashed his light upon her. And he saw that she had spoken truly.
"What a pity!" he exclaimed.
"Don"t stop to talk!" the honey-maker snapped. "Just help me to get away from this thistle. And THEN you can talk all you want to. In fact, I"ll give you something to talk about."
Freddie Firefly was not so dull-witted but that he knew she intended to punish him for sending her to the thistle blossom.
"I"ll go back to your house and bring somebody to help you, if I can,"
he said. "Don"t you see that it wouldn"t be safe for me to try to pull you loose? I might get stuck there myself. And we"d be prisoners for the rest of the night."
Peppery Polly hadn"t thought of that. And she was inclined to believe that there might be some such danger.
"You may go for help," she said at last. "But please remember that there"s no time to lose. The Queen won"t like it at all when she hears about this accident, for she expected me to fetch home a good deal of nectar before midnight."
"I"ll hurry. And I"ll be back as soon as I can bring one of your fellow-workers with me," Freddie Firefly promised.
Since he was a person of his word, he went straight back to the home of the b.u.mblebee family in the meadow. Being used to finding his way about after dark, Freddie had no trouble reaching the b.u.mblebees" home. But rousing the household was an entirely different matter. Though he pounded his hardest at their door, none of the b.u.mblebee family heard him. Having always slept from sunset till dawn without once waking, they were wrapped in such heavy slumber that not one of them knew what was going on.
To be sure, the family trumpeter--who awakened the household each morning and was a somewhat lighter sleeper than the others--the trumpeter claimed afterward that she DREAMED that she heard somebody at the door that night. But that was all the good that came of Freddie Firefly"s efforts.
After trying his best to rouse Peppery Polly"s people, Freddie Firefly at last grew discouraged. He saw that the b.u.mblebee family was bound to sleep until dawn came, no matter what happened.
He reflected, then, that there were two things he could do. He could go back alone to the clover field and try to set that ill-tempered worker free--and no doubt get stung by her for his pains. Or he could go to the dance of the Fireflies over near the swamp, and have a delightful time.