mall green island
among the bulrushes and tall marsh moss.

"Let us hear one. Stop croaking, Speckle-back, and do you ladies quit
dancing while I listen. Go along, Leather-wing; she shall stay till
to-morrow and see what she can do," said Willy Wisp, seating himself
near Bud, while the frogs grew still and the fireflies settled on the
leaves like little lamps, making the island as light as day.

"It is late now; so when you hear the clock strike twelve you can stop
and go to sleep, for the people will all be safe at home and Willy can
do no harm. I'll come again soon. Good-night."

And away skimmed the bat, glad to find the darkest part of the marsh and
hunt gnats for supper.

Bud immediately began to tell the story of "The Merry Cockchafer," and
it proved so very interesting that soon a circle of frogs surrounded the
island, laughing with their great mouths and winking their bright eyes
as they listened. The wild ducks woke up and came to hear also; a
water-snake glided nearer, with his neighbor the muskrat; while the
fireflies grew so thick on the reeds and moss that everything sparkled,
and Willy Wisp nodded his bright head joyfully as he sat like a king
with his court about him.

Just in the most exciting place, when the Cockchafer and the Stag-beetle
were going to fight a duel about the lovely white Moth, the clock struck
twelve, and Bud, who was very tired, stopped short, saying,--

"I will finish to-morrow at twilight. The last part is the best, for the
Lady-bug and the wicked Grasshopper do terrible things in it."

They all begged eagerly for the end, but Bud was hoarse and must go to
sleep; so every one went away to talk about this new and charming
creature who had come to make the long nights pleasant. Willy Wisp went
zigzagging to and fro, trying to imagine what would come next, and Bud
laid her head on a bulrush pillow to dream of stars till morning.

She was rather troubled, when daylight came, to find herself a prisoner;
for deep water was all round her island, and there was no way of
escaping. She asked a pretty white duck to take her to a larger place,
for here there was nothing to eat but the soft green buds of the sweet
flag and the little sour balls of the wild-cranberry vines.

"I'm not a steamer, and I don't carry passengers," answered the duck,
paddling away; for he wanted Bud to stay and tell more tales.

So there she had to live for many days, watching the long-legged herons
as they st