will you do for me if I let you
go?"

But not a word did Chirpy Cricket say--not one single word!

"You're a queer one," Johnnie Green told him. "You might fiddle for me,
at least--though I must say I don't care for the tune you always play. I
can get better music out of a cornstalk fiddle than I've ever heard from
you or any of your family."

Then, very carefully, Johnnie set Chirpy Cricket on the ground, with both
his hands cupped closely over him, so he couldn't jump away.

"Now, fiddle!" Johnnie Green cried. "Fiddle just once and I'll let you
go."

Though Johnnie Green waited patiently for what seemed to him a long time,
he heard nothing that sounded the least bit like fiddling. So at last he
peeped between two fingers to see what the fiddler was doing. But Johnnie
Green couldn't see him. Little by little he lifted his hands. And to his
great surprise there was nothing under them but grass--and beneath the
grass a crack in the earth.

"Well! You're a sly one!" Johnnie Green exclaimed. "You've crawled into
that crack. And you may stay there, too, for all I care." Johnnie jumped
to his feet and moved away. And not until he had been gone some time did
Chirpy Cricket make a sound. Then he played a few notes on his fiddle,
just to see that it hadn't been harmed.

XI

A QUEER, NEW COUSIN

Chirpy Cricket was so fond of fiddling that sometimes he was the last of
all the big Cricket family to stop making music and go home to bed. Now
and then he lingered so long above the ground that the dawn caught him
before he crept into his hole in the ground, beneath the straw. And one
morning it was getting so light before he had played enough to suit him
that he crawled into a crack in Farmer Green's garden. It looked like a
comfortable place to spend the day. And he thought it would be foolish
for him to do much travelling at that hour, because there was no telling
when an early bird might spy--and pounce upon--him.

He found his retreat quite to his liking. Nothing had happened to disturb
his rest. And if he had only had time to carry a few blades of grass into
the crack, to eat between naps, Chirpy would have had nothing to wish
for.

Late in the afternoon, however, a most unusual thing took place. Chirpy
Cricket noticed a sound as of some one digging. It grew louder and louder
as he listened. And it was not in the least like the scratching of a hen,
looking for grubs and worms. This noise was deep down in th