Chester Cricket's New Home
“These last days of August sometimes were the sultriest ones of all. The summer seemed to have saved its strength, and then—perhaps warned by a single bright, cool day like September—in one week it burned up all its stored heat. A good time for insects, this time of year was. Chester Cricket and all his friends and relatives—cicadas, locusts, katydids—made music in the fields.
With his special liquid melody—all birds have their own, like signatures—John Robin coasted down through the air and ali...ghted next to Chester. “Hi!”
“Hi, John.”
“Nice day!”
“Yes, very.”
Walter Water Snake raised two eyes suspiciously above the surface of Simon’s Pool.
To show how nice and share his pleasure, John sang his song a few more times. But, unlike every other day, his wordless tune brought no joy this morning to Chester Cricket. It hurt him, somehow. Ordinarily, hearing John pour forth his robin’s throaty happiness—even show off a little, if he felt extra well—was one of Chester’s greatest pleasures.MoreLess
With his special liquid melody—all birds have their own, like signatures—John Robin coasted down through the air and ali...ghted next to Chester. “Hi!”
“Hi, John.”
“Nice day!”
“Yes, very.”
Walter Water Snake raised two eyes suspiciously above the surface of Simon’s Pool.
To show how nice and share his pleasure, John sang his song a few more times. But, unlike every other day, his wordless tune brought no joy this morning to Chester Cricket. It hurt him, somehow. Ordinarily, hearing John pour forth his robin’s throaty happiness—even show off a little, if he felt extra well—was one of Chester’s greatest pleasures.MoreLess
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