Part 1

ANT VENTURES

ANT VENTURES

_By_ BLANCHE ELIZABETH WADE _Author of “The Island of Make-Believe” and “The Magic Stone”_

_Pictures by_ HARRISON CADY

[Illustration]

RAND MᶜNALLY & COMPANY CHICAGO NEW YORK

_Copyright, 1924, by_ RAND MᶜNALLY & COMPANY

[Illustration: THE RAND-MᶜNALLY PRESS]

Made in U. S. A.

THE CONTENTS

PAGE

AROUND THE WORLD FOR A CHANGE 7

AT THE ANGLEWORM’S DOORWAY 17

ON THE PLEASURE BOAT 31

A VENTURE IN POLITENESS 44

AT THE WILD-ROSE TEA HOUSE 54

A VENTURE IN PLEASURE 66

THE BAND CONCERT 78

KEEPING DOWN LUMPS 86

AT MOLESWORTH HALL 98

A VENTURE WITH A PASS 107

AN ANT VENTURE IN GOING UP 115

EXPLORING A TREE 125

A VENTURE OF MOTTOES 136

A VENTURE IN QUESTIONS 146

AT THE HOLLOW-LOG INN 156

THE WOODCHUCK’S DREAM 164

A VENTURE WITH NEW FRIENDS 175

AT CLOVER LODGE 188

WHAT THE YELLOWBIRD SAID 195

THE TWO TRICKS 205

THE ANT VENTURE OF THE CAT-TAIL 215

THE ANT VENTURE OF THE DRAGON FLY’S TRICK 223

THE ANT VENTURE OF A HAPPY MEETING 230

THE ANT VENTURE OF AN EMBROIDERED MOTTO 237

[Illustration: _The Ant looked, and there sat a Beetle on the same leaf_]

ANT VENTURES

AROUND THE WORLD FOR A CHANGE

Once upon a time there was an Ant sitting on a leaf to think. He was tired of working, and his mother had sent him out to hunt for a little green Worm to stow away in the larder, but he did not want to do even that.

“I never saw such a stupid world!” he said aloud. “All there is to do is to carry out the earth all day long, or else go hunting for the family’s food, and I am tired of it all!”

“Ho!” said a voice near him. “All you want is a change. You think you have seen the world, but I will give you something that will cure you. I know your mother well, so you take her this prescription I am writing. Give it to her with my compliments and tell her I said that it is all you need to make you the happiest Ant in the whole wide world.”

The Ant looked, and there sat a Beetle on the same leaf. He had on large, horn-rimmed spectacles, and was writing busily on a physician’s prescription pad. Any one could see he was a doctor. He handed the prescription to the Ant, took off the big spectacles, and said, “Now run along to your mother, and show her this at once.”

The Ant took the prescription, thanked the Beetle, and ran down the stem of the leaf to the ground and back to Ant-Hill Manor, where he lived. He could not read a word of the prescription himself, for whoever could read a physician’s prescription, anyway? No one but the doctor himself and the druggist, I am sure. But at the top of the paper the Ant could read plainly:

ALEXANDER BEETLE BUG, M. D.

“That must mean Alexander Beetle Bug, Meadow Doctor,” thought the Ant.

Well, sir, when he walked into the main doorway of Ant-Hill Manor and showed the paper to his mother, he found that some one besides doctors and druggists could read prescriptions, for she understood every sign scrawled upon the paper. Dr. Bug had been an old schoolmate of hers, and this was a secret code they had used when they wanted to write notes in school. She had to laugh like everything.

“All right,” said she. “Here is the best advice I ever had. My old friend Dr. Bug says you need a change. So go put up your wheelbarrow, which is lying where you left it when you would not work this morning, and close the tool-house door carefully when you come out. By that time I shall have your things ready for you. You may start today.”

Off went the Ant to do as he was told. When he came back, there stood his mother with his best hat in one of her hands, his Sunday suit in another of them, his toothbrush, comb, wash cloth, and soap in a little case in another hand, his best Sunday shoes and stockings in another, and a basket of lunch in another.

“Change your things right away,” said she, “for the sooner you begin your trip, the better.”

[Illustration: _She gave him his little case, his lunch basket, and his hat and kissed him good-by_]

He washed himself and put on his best clothes. When he was ready, she gave him his little case, his lunch basket, and his hat and kissed him good-by. He thought she did not seem very sorry about his going, and that was queer, for never before had he been away from her overnight. He did not say anything, though, but put on his nice straw hat with his initials inside--_A. A._ for _Anthony Ant_--and down the steps of Ant-Hill Manor he went while all the other Ants waved their feelers at him. Not one of them cried a tear. He even imagined his mother was smiling as though it were all a joke.

Anyway, he had nothing to do now except to go wherever he wanted to, so he decided to keep to the right and go all the way around the field. That would be going around the whole world, he thought. Off he went, over grass and under grass; up stalks and down stalks; into holes and out of holes; around stones and over stones; across stem bridges and across twig bridges; part way on the rail fence; part way on a log; up a stump and across the stump and down the stump; until he was tired from going such a long stretch at a time, and he sat down to rest and to eat a little of his lunch. He was glad his mother had put so much into the basket, for he was hungry. He took off his best hat, hung it on a short weed near by, and leaned his head against a stout stem. Then he opened the basket and took out some of the lunch.

There were dainty sandwiches made of sliced, cold-boiled caterpillar, some delicious pieces of Butterflies’ wings, and other sandwiches of thinly sliced dried Cricket. In one corner of the basket was a small pot of his favorite meadow-flower honey. There were poppy-seed biscuits too, some clover-sugar cookies, and a huge piece of cold roast Grasshopper which would last him for several meals.

[Illustration: _The hat was the best thing the Field Mouse had tasted in a long time_]

The Ant felt much refreshed after his rest and the lunch. He packed what was left of the food back in the basket and reached for his hat. Ho! but no hat was there! He looked and looked under the weed where he had hung it, and everywhere about the place, and all at once he spied a Field Mouse eating the last of its pretty ribbon hatband. It was too late to save even the band of the hat, and all the Field Mouse would say when the Ant spoke about the matter was that the hat was the best thing he had tasted in a long time. Then off he went to hunt for more best hats to eat, maybe.

Well, to take a trip around the world, and not have a hat to wear, was sad for the Ant, but unless he went home and gave up the trip he would have to go bareheaded. As he was too proud to give up, bareheaded he went, and he tramped all the afternoon, meeting many strange people he never had seen near Ant-Hill Manor. There were Bugs large and small; Bugs that were fierce and Bugs that were kind; strange little Insects; Worms of many different colors; Flies, Moths, and Butterflies of all the old kinds and new kinds too. They were all as happy as could be, and hardly would speak to him, they were so busy. The Ant tried to talk to several of them, but they would not stop their work to listen. They were making their homes, or taking care of them, or hunting for their suppers. He was the only traveler in the world, he thought.

That night he was more tired than he ever had been on his hardest day of work. He ate an early supper and was almost too tired to open the jar of his favorite honey. He ate a clover-sugar cooky and nearly fell asleep over it, and then went to bed under a dry leaf, after carefully hiding all his things, for he remembered what had happened to his hat.

AT THE ANGLEWORM’S DOORWAY

It was a good thing Anthony Ant had not been hungry the night before, for the next morning he was hungrier than ever he had been at home, and he did just wish he had some of the cereal he had found fault with at home the morning before.

[Illustration: _He tied a soft, green leaf under his chin with a narrow grass blade_]

But he ate more of the sandwiches and a large piece of the cold roast Grasshopper, and took a drink of water from a little brook near the spot where he had slept. He tried to think plain cold water for breakfast was exactly as good as hot cocoa, which he always had at Ant-Hill Manor in an old-fashioned cup his Grandmother had given him. In fancy letters on one side it said, “For a Good Child.” Then he set off with the remainder of his food packed in the basket, which was much lighter by this time. His shoes felt pretty tight, but he never had worn them for such long tramps as that of the day before. He made up his mind he would not go so far all at once again, as he had plenty of time, and at noon he would take all his shoes off and rest all his feet for an hour.

It was a hot morning and the sun beat down on the Ant’s bare head, so he picked a soft, green leaf, put it on his head, and tied it under his chin with a narrow grass blade. That was much better, and he almost sang one of the nursery rimes he had heard played on his phonograph at home. If his feet had not been so large for his shoes, he was sure he would have sung it, words and all.

[Illustration: _A large Bird flew out of a tree and pounced down to catch him_]

He did not feel like singing a little later, for all at once something happened which nearly put an end to him. A large Bird flew out of a tree and pounced down to catch him, and he had barely time to jump into an Angleworm’s open doorway to save his life. He dropped his little case with his dressing things in it, but managed to hang on to his lunch basket. The Bird was a Flicker, and Flickers are so fond of Ants to eat that it does not matter who the Ant is so long as he is an Ant. Even if he was Anthony Ant of Ant-Hill Manor, he would have been eaten just as quickly if the Flicker could have caught him.

The Ant trembled so that all his knees shook, but he kept as still as he could otherwise, and did not move until long after the Bird had flown away. Then once more he had to move so suddenly that this time he almost lost his lunch basket.

The thing that frightened him was an Angleworm. Mrs. Angleworm wanted to know what he meant by blocking up her doorway like that. He tried to explain, but all she would say was, “Go away, sir! Go away at once! I do not wish to buy any books at all, nor sewing-machine needles, nor Mexican drawn work, nor soap, nor flavoring extracts, nor silver polish, nor aluminum ware, nor jewelry, nor teas and coffees, nor hand embroidery, nor doormats, nor rugs, nor clocks, nor perfumery, and I do not want to subscribe to _The Angleworms’ Home Journal_, nor to _The Underground Gentleman_, nor to _The Earth’s Work_, nor to _The Flower-Bed Magazine_, nor to _The Literary Hashed News_, nor to _Little Angleworms’ Companion_, so go away, sir! Go away, this minute!”

Oh, my, but the Ant was scared! She had thought him an agent of some kind when she saw the basket in his middle right hand. He opened his mouth to try to explain the whole matter to her, but she would not let him speak.

“Go away, I tell you!” said she. “I don’t want my piano tuned, and there’s nothing wrong with the electric lights, and you can’t come in to show me how any vacuum cleaner works, nor a washing machine, either! Go away!”

Out tumbled the poor Ant, and off he stumbled toward the right. He took one backward glance to see if she were following him, and he saw that she had found his little dressing case and was opening it. He hurried back, as scared as he was, for he could not let her have that.

When she saw him again, she said, “Yes, I know! You are an agent, just as I thought! This case proves it! You are trying to sell soap and tooth paste and combs and brushes, and all that sort of thing. I won’t have one of them, so take your old sample case away from here at once!” And she threw it at him with such good aim that it nearly hit him on the head.

Poor Anthony Ant! All his things packed so neatly by his mother were spilled all over the ground, and while he hurried as fast as he could to pick them up she scolded and scolded as he never had been scolded before.

At last he was out of hearing of her sharp tongue, and, out of breath, he sat down under a large stone to rest. He felt sure he was safe at last, for the stone was like a ledge, and came out over his head, so no Bird could see him. The ground was smooth and hard, so no Angleworm could be living there, he thought. He untied his green leaf hat, and then pulled off all his best shoes, for his feet were so sore and tired he could not tell which of all the pairs hurt the worst. The shoes he placed all in a row.

By looking at the shadows the sun cast out beyond the stone, he could tell that it was time for dinner. At home there was always a fine, hearty dinner, hot and nourishing, as Mrs. Ant knew well that those who worked hard at such labor as made the muscles exercise needed good, hearty food. But no fine, hearty dinner, hot and nourishing, waited ready for him to eat now. He had only what was left in his lunch basket, and I can tell you that, when he opened the cover and saw how the lunch had gotten mixed up from being all joggled by his hard running, it did not look very appetizing. No, sir-ee! As he tried to scrape the honey back into his jar from which the cover had been shaken, he almost cried, for the honey was full of crumbs from the sandwiches, and the sandwiches looked like old scraps to be thrown away instead of eaten. The filling had all come out, and the clover-sugar cookies were damp and sticky, and the big piece of cold roast Grasshopper might have been almost anything but food from the looks of it. Besides, sand had gotten into the things, and everything he tried to eat was gritty.

There was one good thing about the Ant, anyway. He did not give up, even with aching feet and gritty food to discourage him. He ate what he could and thought that pretty soon, after a rest, he would steal out to see if he could find a juicy berry anywhere. That would refresh him and perhaps make him forget the gritty food he had been forced to eat.

“I think I’ll leave my shoes where they are,” thought he. “They will be safe here, I am sure. It will rest me to go barefoot a bit.”

So he left his row of shoes and also his stockings, but he took along his little case and his basket, for he thought he might find a place to bathe himself, and he might even find a little food to put into his basket. But he did not throw away a bit of the gritty food, for he did not know when he could find any good thing to eat, and he might need even the unappetizing mix-up in his basket before he found anything.

It was rather hard stepping out barefooted at first, for even when he was working at home he had good, stout shoes always, as the Ants of Ant-Hill Manor were different from most Ants to be seen anywhere, as you may have guessed by this time. Also, it was harder to walk, as his feet had been made tender by the long tramp in his best shoes, which were new. But he took a slow gait, and by and by he came to the brook again. He dipped all his feet into the water, and he took a fine bath too, and dried himself in the warm sunshine on a big stone. It made him feel like another Ant, he was so rested. He sat there a long time. Then he began to hunt about for a juicy berry, and for whatever else there might be that Ants like to eat when they are not at home where they can have things put on to the table for them and don’t have to wonder where their meals are to come from.

Across the brook, which was narrow here, he spied a bush that had berries on it, although the season for berries was nearly over. Perhaps you think a little thing like an Ant cannot get across even a narrow brook, but he can. And so could this Ant, for, though he never had taken so long a trip before, yet he knew somehow the many tricks of getting across a brook. He stood on the big stone nearest the edge of the water until a piece of leaf floated down near him. Then he jumped upon the floating leaf and stayed on it until it sailed as far as he wished it to take him. Then, as it bobbed against a stone, he crawled off to that stone out in the stream, and found a narrow bridge of grass root that had lodged near the stone. This bridge took him within jumping distance of another stone, and that stone made him nearer the middle of the brook. There he found a dead branch of tree in the water, and this helped him all the way over to the other side, as it reached from the middle of the stream to the opposite bank.

He was more than glad when, after a long tramp over and under and around things, he came to the berry bush. Up it he went to the very first berry he could see, and took a good taste of the juice. It surely made him fairly glow with happiness once more, for in every creature there is a glow of happiness, whether you believe it or not, even though sometimes the glow of happiness is covered up by his own doings or wrong thoughts. Anyway, for the first time since leaving Ant-Hill Manor, Anthony Ant felt a glow of happiness. He sat for a long time on the stem of the berry, and looked all about him while he rested, and kept tasting the sweet juice of the very ripe berry. What a wise doctor his mother’s old friend was, to be sure! The Ant decided not to go home too soon, but to keep right on taking that good Dr. Alexander Beetle Bug’s prescription and let the others do the work of Ant-Hill Manor.

ON THE PLEASURE BOAT

Anthony Ant’s glow of happiness cheered him for some time, and then he happened to think he had to go back across the brook again after his shoes. He had left his basket and dressing case on the other side too. If he had only known about the berry bush sooner, he would have brought everything over in the first place and saved himself a lot of work. Sitting and thinking about the matter would not do any good, so he took one more taste of a good berry and down he started.

He met many large black Ants going up and down the bush to the berries and back to their homes. But they gave him no more than a passing glance, as they were not out seeing the world, but carrying food to their homes. Those going home had bits of dried berries, sweet to the taste though not juicy, and every Ant attended to his work as hard as possible.

It was not an easy trip back to the brook even after the refreshing berry juice. The Ant had to wait some time after going back over the dead branch to the stone, and over the stone to another stone where the grass bridge was, before he could find anything floating near enough to jump upon for a ferryboat.

At last along came a thin piece of wood. He gave a jump and landed upon it all right, and was settling down to watch for a stone nearer shore, and a chance to get to it, when down on to the wood fluttered a leaf from a tree. On the leaf was a Caterpillar as fuzzy as he could be, but fussy.

[Illustration: _“I don’t like Ants on my pleasure boat,” said the Caterpillar. “Get off!”_]

“I don’t like Ants on my pleasure boat,” said he. “Get off!”

“O sir, but I can’t!” cried the Ant, much frightened. “I did not know this was your boat. I was just trying to cross the brook and jumped on to the first thing that came near enough to my stone where I was waiting. If I should get off now, I should be drowned!”

“You are a careless person,” said Mr. Caterpillar. “You should have looked first before jumping.”

“But nobody was on the boat then,” answered the Ant.

“It does not make any difference,” said the Caterpillar. “You might have known that I might board it at any time. However, you may stay until there is a chance for you to get off.”

“Oh, thank you!” exclaimed the Ant. “I’ll be very quiet and not rock the boat a bit.”

The fussy old Caterpillar walked up and down his pleasure boat all the time. When he came to one end, he raised his head and, moving it back and forth, looked all about him. Then he turned around and crawled to the other end and did the same thing, He kept this up until all at once the boat bumped against the shore itself, for they had drifted in.

“Well,” said he, “here’s land at last. I may as well get off here as anywhere. You go first, and I’ll see how you manage.”