indred laugh
before the ball is over," said the lively young Cricket, hurrying away,
and going straight up to the Scotch Bee, who was clad in a tartan plaid
and kilt.

"Bee," said the Cricket, "can you dance the Highland Fling?"

"Ay, she can do that."

"I could show you a better fling than the Highland one," said the
Cricket.

"Ho! could ye? ye must be verra cliver. Wull ye let her see't?"

"Yes, if you'll dance the Highland fling first? Will you do it if Mrs
Butterfly asks you?"

The Scotch Bee good-naturedly agreed. Of course, the Cricket had no
difficulty in persuading the hostess to ask him. The musicians could
not play a reel; but this mattered not, for the Bee could hum to
himself. Great was the delight and surprise of the company when they
beheld the Scotch Bee twirling his legs, snapping his fingers, and
humming the reel of Tulloch, while the tartans fluttered round him like
shreds of a shattered rainbow.

The dance waxed more and more furious, and the plaudits of the company
grew louder, when, suddenly, the lively young Cricket ran in between the
Bee's legs, tripped him up, and sent him sprawling on the grass. A wild
shout of laughter burst from the company--Glow-worms included--and the
ball-room brightened up for a few moments as if it had been set on fire!

"That's the fling I spoke of," cried the Cricket, leaping up and running
away.

The Scotch Bee sprang up, drew his dirk, and gave chase, but Mr
Grasshopper caught him by the arm and dragged him off.

"Ho! friends--supper--supper! This way. Don't sheathe your dirk. I
have a haggis ready for you to sheathe it in. Come along; give your arm
to that bloated old Spider there. She'll keep you in spirits."

The Bee was mollified. He gave his arm to the Spider; then all the
company went off to sup in a neighbouring glade. Shall we describe the
supper? We think not. It was beyond description delightful. Just as
it was finished the moon rose from behind a cloud, so the company knew
that it was time to go home.

Before going away, they all assembled at the foot of the oak, and shook
claws with Lady Butterfly and Mr Grasshopper, saying that they were
charmed with the delightful evening they had spent, and that they hoped
to be soon invited again.

In a few minutes they were all gone. The sounds of their laughing
voices, as they returned home, died gradually away, and the shadows of
night spread over the quiet forest and the happy litt