Being unable to rest, on account of the uproar from the Bumblebees’ house, Chirpy crept out of his door and stood blinking in the pasture. Soon he noticed a plump person sitting on a head of clover which the cows had overlooked. Chirpy couldn’t see clearly who he was, coming up out of the darkness as he had. But he was glad there was somebody to talk to, anyhow.
“Good morning!” he greeted the person on the clover-top, adding in a lower tone, “They’re a queer family—those Bumblebees!”
To his great dismay, the person to whom he had spoken began to buzz. And leaping nearer him, in order to see him better, Chirpy Cricket discovered that he had been talking to Buster Bumblebee! Buster was a blundering, good-natured chap. And to Chirpy’s relief, instead of getting angry he merely laughed.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Chirpy told him. “If I’m disagreeable this morning, it’s because I need a good rest. And your family’s humming disturbs me.”
“Why do you think we’re queer?” Buster asked him.
“Don’t you call it a bit odd—having a dance at this time of day?”
“Bless you! They’re not dancing in there!” Buster Bumblebee cried. “That’s the workers storing away the honey. They’re always buzzing like that. Perhaps you didn’t know that our honey-makers can’t work without being noisy. To tell the truth, they wake me every morning. And often I’d rather sleep.”
“Will they keep this racket up all summer?” Chirpy inquired.
“On all pleasant days!” Buster Bumblebee said.
“Then,” said Chirpy Cricket, “I’ll have to move to a quieter neighborhood. This humming every day would soon drive me frantic.”