<h2>IX</h2>
<h3>AN INTERRUPTED NAP</h3></div>
<p>Chirpy Cricket liked his home in Farmer
Green’s yard. During the long summer
days he thought it very cheerful to rest
in his dark hole in the ground. He liked
the darkness of his home; he liked its
warmth, too. For in pleasant weather the
sun beat down upon the straw-littered
ground above him and gave him plenty of
heat, while on gray days the straw blanket
kept his house cosy. And it never occurred
to Chirpy Cricket that there was
anything odd in having a blanket over his
house instead of over himself.</p>
<p>Nothing ever really disturbed Chirpy
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_41' name='page_41'></SPAN>41</span>
Cricket after he settled in the farmyard.
To be sure, he had a few frights at first.
Now and then the earth trembled in a terrible
fashion. But that happened only
when Johnnie Green led old Ebenezer, or
some other horse, to the watering-trough,
passing right over Chirpy’s home. And
Chirpy had soon learned that he was in no
danger.</p>
<p>Then at other times he heard an odd
tearing and scratching, as if some giant
had discovered Chirpy’s doorway and
meant to dig him out of his hiding place.
By peeping slyly out he discovered at last
the cause of those fearful sounds. It was
only the hens looking for something to
eat—a bit of grain amid the straw, or perhaps
an angleworm. Chirpy never left
his house when he heard the hens at work.
He had no wish to offer himself as a tidbit.
And he felt quite safe down in his
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_42' name='page_42'></SPAN>42</span>
home, for he was quick to learn that the
hens were no diggers. They could only
scratch the surface of the ground. So, in
time, he used to laugh when he heard them.
And now and then he would even fiddle a
bit, as if to say to them, “Here I am!
Come and get me if you can!”</p>
<p>The sound of fiddling, coming from beneath
their feet, always puzzled the hens.
They would stop scratching and cock their
heads on one side, to listen. And they
tried to look very knowing. But they
were really the most stupid of all the creatures
in the farmyard. If they had only
been as wise as Farmer Green’s cat they
would have kept still and waited and
watched. And sooner or later they would
have given Chirpy Cricket the surprise
of his life, when he came crawling out of
his hole to get a few blades of grass for
his supper.
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_43' name='page_43'></SPAN>43</span></p>
<p>But even if the hens had thought of such
a plan they never could have kept their
minds upon it long enough to carry it out.
So perhaps it was no wonder that Chirpy
Cricket got the idea into his head that he
was safe from everybody. Sometimes,
when he was dozing, even the footsteps of
old Ebenezer failed to rouse him.</p>
<p>But there came a day when Chirpy
Cricket awoke with a great start. Something
had touched his long feelers. Something
had come right down into his hole
and was prodding him.</p>
<p>He thought it must be a hen. And he
did not laugh. No! Nor did he fiddle!</p>
<hr class='major' />
<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
<SPAN name='X_CAUGHT' id='X_CAUGHT'></SPAN>
<span class='pagenum pncolor'><SPAN name='page_44' name='page_44'></SPAN>44</span>
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