"Why, it's simple enough," said little Mrs. Ladybug. "When a train came along you would stand on the track right in front of it and wave your light." And while she smiled at Freddie Firefly as if to say, "You see how easy it is," she dropped six more stitches out of her knitting—and never found them, either.
Freddie Firefly, however, did not smile at all. On the contrary, he looked somewhat worried.
"Are you sure it's safe?" he asked her. "If the train failed to stop, with me on the track in front of it—"
"Don't worry about that!" cried little Mrs. Ladybug. "You'll never amount to anything if you worry. And if you don't wish to fritter away your time dancing in this meadow, you'll take my advice and begin to work at once."
"I'll think about the matter," said Freddie Firefly. And then he added somewhat doubtfully: "It's a long way to the railroad."
"Pooh!" Mrs. Ladybug exclaimed. "Old Mr. Crow often visits it. And if he can fly that far, at his age, a youngster like you ought not to mind the trip."
"Perhaps you know best," Freddie Firefly told Mrs. Ladybug at last.
"I'll take your advice just this once, and I'll see how I like the work.
But there's another question I'd like to ask you: What will the trains
do after they stop?"
While laughing over Freddie's question Mrs. Ladybug shook so hard that she unravelled sixteen rows of her knitting before she could stop.
"Bless you!" she cried, as soon as she could speak. "I don't know what the trains will do. That's their affair—not yours nor mine. Everybody's aware that trains are made for two purposes—to start and to stop. But I never should think of being so rude as to ask them WHY, or WHAT, or WHEN, or WHERE."
So Freddie Firefly thanked Mrs. Ladybug most politely. He was sure, now, that she was one of the wisest persons in the whole valley. No doubt, he thought, she knew almost as much as old Mr. Crow, or even Solomon Owl. And he wished he knew half what she did.