"Very well—my love!" said Rusty Wren. And then he slipped away to hunt for food, because the children were still clamoring for more.
Mrs. Wren talked a good deal, afterward, about her terrible experience. Yet she never stopped to think about the pretty beetle—about little Mrs. Ladybug. For Mrs. Ladybug had had a dreadful fright. Luckily she wasn't hurt. But it was a long time before she was her usual busy, able self again. And later, when she told her friends about her adventure, she said that she couldn't understand how Rusty came to make such a mistake.
"I supposed," Mrs. Ladybug declared, "that every bird in Pleasant Valley knew I wasn't good to eat."
VI
THE TRAVELER
Farmer Green's garden was growing fast. The sweet corn waved and rustled whenever a breeze swept it. The beets and carrots sent their pert tops a little higher each day. The cabbages began to puff their heads out as if they felt of some importance in the world. And the potato vines were actually pretty, with their white blossoms amid the green leaves. Farmer Green was very proud of his potatoes. He said, in Mrs. Ladybug's hearing, that they were the best he had ever raised.
"I must fly over to the garden and have a look at those potatoes," Mrs. Ladybug thought. "It's always a pleasure to see flourishing crops."
Before she found time to spare for her visit to the garden a traveler entered the orchard one day. At least, he had every appearance of having come from other parts. For he carried a traveling bag—an old-fashioned carpetbag—and he seemed to have lost his way.
As soon as Mrs. Ladybug saw him she couldn't help thinking what a handsome person he was. He wore a yellow coat. And instead of being spotted with black, as her gown was, it was striped.
"Good morning!" said the stranger.