"What do you think of that?" said the Cricket triumphantly.
"It's beautiful," said Winnie; "but where are you going?"
"You'll see presently," said the Cricket; "and I wish you wouldn't chatter so. You nearly made me forget him."
The Cricket was sitting on the Hearthstone watching the People in the Fire going to Church
"Forget who?" said Winnie.
"Our drummer," said the Cricket. "Keep still—I heard him a minute ago."
There was a long pause—so long that Winnie almost screamed, for there was nothing but the clock-tick to listen to.
Then something joined the clock-tick—One-two-three-four, pit-tip, tip-pit, one-two-three-four, pat-tap, tap-pat (just like soldiers a long way off, as Winnie explained), and presently the drummer himself appeared. He was a very small, squat, round-shouldered beetle, and he came out of a hole in the beam which ran across the ceiling.
