The Adventures of Maya the Bee | Page 9

The frog, thank goodness, was nearing his end. One eye was gone, one leg was broken, and his lower jaw was dislocated. Yet, for all that, the moment my brother was stuck in the pocket he hissed at him out of his crooked mouth:
"'As soon as I am well, I will swallow you.'
"With his remaining eye he glared at my brother, and in the half-light of the prison you can imagine what an effect the look he gave him must have had--fearful!-- Then something even more horrible happened. The pocket was suddenly shaken, my brother was pressed against the dying frog and his wings stuck to its cold, wet body. He went off in a faint.-- Oh, the misery of it! There are no words to describe it."
"How did you find all this out?" Maya was so horrified she could scarcely frame the question.
"I'll tell you," replied Miss Loveydear. "After a while the boy got hungry and dug into his pocket for the carrot. It was under my brother and the frog, and the boy threw them away first.-- I heard my brother's cry for help, and found him lying beside the frog on the grass. I reached him only in time to hear the whole story before he breathed his last. He put his arms round my neck and kissed me farewell. Then he died--bravely and without complaining, like a little hero. When his crushed wings had given their last quiver, I laid an oak leaf over his body and went to look for a sprig of forget-me-nots to put upon his grave. 'Sleep well, my little brother,' I cried, and flew off in the quiet of the evening. I flew toward the two red suns, the one in the sky and the one in the lake. No one has ever felt as sad and solemn as I did then.-- Have you ever had a sorrow in your life? Perhaps you'll tell me about it some other time."
"No," said Maya. "As a matter of fact, until now I have always been happy."
"You may thank your lucky stars," said Miss Loveydear with a note of disappointment in her voice.
Maya asked about the frog.
"Oh, him," said Miss Loveydear. "He, it is presumed, met with the end he deserved. The hard-heartedness of him, to frighten a dying person! When I found him on the grass beside my brother, he was trying to get away. But on account of his broken leg and one eye gone, all he could do was hop round in a circle and hop round in a circle. He looked too comical for words. 'The stork'll soon get ye,' I called to him as I flew away."
"Poor frog!" said little Maya.
"Poor frog! Poor frog indeed! That's going too far. Pitying a frog. The idea! To feel sorry for a frog is like clipping your own wings. You seem to have no principles."
"Perhaps. But it's hard for me to see any one suffer."
"Oh"--Miss Loveydear comforted her--"that's because you're so young. You'll learn to bear it in time. Cheerio, my dear.-- But I must be getting into the sunshine. It's pretty cold here. Good-by!"
A faint rustle and the gleam of a thousand colors, lovely pale colors like the glints in running water and clear gems.
Miss Loveydear swung through the green rushes out over the surface of the water. Maya heard her singing in the sunshine. She stood and listened. It was a fine song, with something of the melancholy sweetness of a folksong, and it filled the little bee's heart with mingled happiness and sadness.
Softly flows the lovely stream Touched by morning's rosy gleam Through the alders darted, Where the rushes bend and sway, Where the water-lilies say "We are golden-hearted!"
Warm the scent the west-wind brings, Bright the sun upon my wings, Joy among the flowers! Though my life may not be long, Golden summer, take my song! Thanks for perfect hours!
"Listen!" a white butterfly called to its friend. "Listen to the song of the dragon-fly." The light creatures rocked close to Maya, and rocked away again into the radiant blue day. Then Maya also lifted her wings, buzzed farewell to the silvery lake, and flew inland.
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CHAPTER IV
EFFIE AND BOBBIE
When Maya awoke the next morning in the corolla of a blue canterbury bell, she heard a fine, faint rustling in the air and felt her blossom-bed quiver as from a tiny, furtive tap-tapping. Through the open corolla came a damp whiff of grass and earth, and the air was quite chill. In some apprehension, she took a little pollen from the yellow stamens, scrupulously performed her toilet, then, warily, picking her steps, ventured to the outer edge of the drooping blossom. It was raining! A fine cool rain was coming down with a light plash, covering everything all round with millions