<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="dcp-chap19">
<p style='padding-top: 290px;'> </p>
<h2 style='padding-right: 180px;'>THE DAY OF THE GREAT STORM</h2>
<p style='padding-right: 180px;'>Everything in the meadow
was dry and dusty. The leaves
on the milkweeds were turning
yellow with thirst, the field
blossoms drooped their dainty
heads in the sunshine, and the
grass seemed to fairly rattle in
the wind, it was so brown and
dry.</p>
<p style='padding-right: 180px;'>All of the meadow people
when they met each other
would say, "Well, this <i>is</i> hot,"
and the Garter Snake, who
had lived there longer than anyone else,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</SPAN></span>
declared that it was the hottest and driest
time that he had ever known. "Really,"
he said, "it is so hot that I cannot eat,
and such a thing never happened before."</p>
<p style='padding-right: 180px;'>The Grasshoppers and Locusts were
very happy, for such weather was exactly
what they liked. They didn't see how
people could complain of such delightful
scorching days. But that, you know, is
always the way, for everybody cannot be
suited at once, and all kinds of weather
are needed to make a good year.</p>
<p>The poor Tree Frog crawled into the
coolest place he could find—hollow trees,
shady nooks under the ferns, or even beneath
the corner of a great stone. "Oh,"
said he, "I wish I were a Tadpole again,
swimming in a shady pool. It is such a
long, hot journey to the marsh that I cannot
go. Last night I dreamed that I was
a Tadpole, splashing in the water, and it
was hard to awaken and find myself only
an uncomfortable old Tree Frog."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</SPAN></span>Over
his head the Katydids were singing,
"Lovely weather! Lovely weather!" and
the Tree Frog, who was a good-natured
old fellow after all, winked his eye at them
and said: "Sing away. This won't last
always, and then it will be my turn to sing."</p>
<p>Sure enough, the very next day a tiny
cloud drifted across the sky, and the Tree
Frog, who always knew when the weather
was about to change, began his rain-song.
"Pukr-r-rup!" sang he, "Pukr-r-rup! It
will rain! It will rain! R-r-r-rain!"</p>
<p>The little white cloud, grew bigger and
blacker, and another came following after,
then another, and another, and another,
until the sky was quite covered with rushing
black clouds. Then came a long, low
rumble of thunder, and all the meadow people
hurried to find shelter. The Moths and
Butterflies hung on the under sides of great
leaves. The Grasshoppers and their cousins
crawled under burdock and mullein plants.
The Ants scurried around to find their<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</SPAN></span>
own homes. The Bees and Wasps, who
had been gathering honey for their nests,
flew swiftly back. Everyone was hurrying
to be ready for the shower, and above
all the rustle and stir could be heard the
voice of the old Frog, "Pukr-r-rup! Pukr-r-rup!
It will rain! It will rain! R-r-r-rain!"</p>
<p>The wind blew harder and harder, the
branches swayed and tossed, the leaves
danced, and some even blew off of their
mother trees; the hundreds of little clinging
creatures clung more and more tightly to
the leaves that sheltered them, and then the
rain came, and such a rain! Great drops
hurrying down from the sky, crowding each
other, beating down the grass, flooding the
homes of the Ants and Digger Wasps until
they were half choked with water, knocking
over the Grasshoppers and tumbling them
about like leaves. The lightning flashed,
and the thunder pealed, and often a tree
would crash down in the forest near by
when the wind blew a great blast.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</SPAN></span></p>
<p>When everybody was wet, and little
rivulets of water were trickling through
the grass and running into great puddles
in the hollows, the rain stopped, stopped
suddenly. One by one the meadow people
crawled or swam into sight.</p>
<p>The Digger Wasp was floating on a
leaf in a big puddle. He was too tired
and wet to fly, and the whirling of the
leaf made him feel sick and dizzy, but he
stood firmly on his tiny boat and tried to
look as though he enjoyed it.</p>
<p>The Ants were rushing around to put
their homes in shape, the Spiders were
busily eating their old webs, which had
been broken and torn in the storm, and
some were already beginning new ones.
A large family of Bees, whose tree-home
had been blown down, passed over the
meadow in search for a new dwelling, and
everybody seemed busy and happy in the
cool air that followed the storm.</p>
<p>The Snake went gliding through the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</SPAN></span>
wet grass, as hungry as ever, the Tree
Frog was as happy as when he was a
Tadpole, and only the Grasshoppers and
their cousins, the Locusts and Katydids,
were cross. "Such a horrid rain!" they
grumbled, "it spoiled all our fun. And
after such lovely hot weather too."</p>
<p>"Now don't be silly," said the Tree
Frog, who could be really severe when he
thought best, "the Bees and the Ants are
not complaining, and they had a good
deal harder time than you. Can't you
make the best of anything? A nice,
hungry, cross lot you would be if it
didn't rain, because then you would have
no good, juicy food. It's better for you
in the end as it is, but even if it were not,
you might make the best of it as I did of
the hot weather. When you have lived
as long as I have, you will know that
neither Grasshoppers nor Tree Frogs can
have their way all the time, but that it
always comes out all right in the end
without their fretting about it."</p>
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