Then the sly little Dormouse peeped out of his hole, and led to the feast his blind cousin the Mole; And the Snail, with her horns peeping out from her shell, Came fatigued with the distance, the length of an ell.

“Come along, you lazy fellow,” cried the little Dormouse, knocking with his ivory-headed cane at the door of a mole-hill.

“Ay, ay, cousin,” shouted the Mole, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

So the Dormouse stood impatiently tapping his boots till the Mole should be ready. The Dormouse was dressed in the height of fashion, and thought himself a rather handsome fellow. Some people said that he was conceited, and indeed a Spider that was near at hand plainly told him so; but, whether this was true or not, there is no doubt that he was a very kind little fellow, because he came to lead his poor blind cousin to the feast.

“What a time you have been, old boy,” he said, as the Mole appeared, dusting the earth off his coat and white hat.

The Mole answered that he had been very busy all morning making a new tunnel between his bed-room and drawing-room. He then took his friend’s arm, and away they went over the green meadows, where the cowslips and buttercups grew, making the grass look as if it were dotted all over with gold. Sometimes the two friends stopped by the way to rest under a buttercup, and sip a little morning dew; but seeing every one hastening past them, while they wasted their time, the Dormouse jumped up again, and cast a sly look at his blind friend as he asked him what he thought of the fine view.

“Don’t make jokes about my being blind,” said the Mole, pretending to be angry.

Just at that moment they both ran into a Spider’s web.

“Oh! how stupid of me,” cried the Dormouse; “I wasn’t looking before me at the time.”

“You might as well be without eyes, if you don’t use them,” said the Mole, as they cleared away the threads of the net, and, making a low bow to the Spider, went on their way.

Now, all this time the Snail had been slowly creeping over the stones and winding round the blades of grass and flowers that strewed her path to the place of meeting. But she was so long of getting there that the guests began to be impatient, and said that perhaps she was not coming at all. She lived under the next tree, and had only about four feet to walk, but she was so very slow that she took a long, long time to it; and at last the Grasshopper whispered to the Butterfly that she should go and meet her. Away went the Butterfly on her gaudy wings, and, alighting by the Snail’s side, began to urge her to make haste. During the Butterfly’s absence, the Wasp, who was always making spiteful remarks, said that it was shameful in the Snail to keep them waiting; but the Humble-bee, who was walking up and down conversing with a Midge, turned round and said, “Remember, you Wasp, that you have not brought your sting with you to-day, so pray do not give way to your spiteful nature. The poor Snail has to carry her house on her back, so we should not be angry at her slowness.” Some of the other insects said that this was no excuse for the Snail, because she knew that she walked very slowly, and should therefore have set out sooner.

“Come, come,” cried a young Frog, jumping forward, “no fighting to-day, ladies and gentlemen. We have come here to be happy; and here comes the Snail at last.”

As he spoke, the Butterfly flew towards them, and the Snail crawled in, took off her bonnet, put on her spectacles, and sat down; while the waiters bustled about, placed stools for the guests, and brought in the repast.

A Mushroom the table, and on it was spread A Water-dock leaf, which their table-cloth made; The viands were various, to each of their taste, And the Bee brought the honey to sweeten the feast.

It was, perhaps, the strangest dinner-party that ever was seen. There were such a multitude of odd creatures, of all shapes and sizes and colours; some of whom were by nature bitter enemies, and would have fought and killed each other had they met in the woods while taking a walk, but were quite civil and polite to one another, now that they met as guests in Mrs Butterfly’s bower. Indeed, many of them wished that they could be such good friends at all times as they were then.

All the party had now arrived, and there was a great deal of talking, and buzzing, and humming, and jesting, as they sat round the table and feasted on the good things placed before them. The table was a mushroom, covered with a table-cloth of water-dock leaf, and on it were placed all the delicious dishes of the woods. The Dormouse brought a good deal of wheat, oats, and barley. The Squirrel brought a bagful of nuts. The Humble-bee brought a quantity of fine honey in the comb, which was declared to be most excellent. In short, every one brought something or other; so that, when all was spread out beside the good things supplied by Mrs Butterfly and Mr Grasshopper, it seemed the grandest feast that ever was heard of. Such fun there was, to be sure! And such a multitude of voices talking all at once.

“My dear,” cried the Butterfly across the table to the Grasshopper, “I hope you are attending to your friends there. See that you give them enough to eat, and plenty of mountain-dew to drink.”

“Yes, yes, my love,” replied the Grasshopper as well as he could for laughing at the jokes of a bloated old Spider that sat beside him. Then the Grasshopper called to the Butterfly to send him a slice of wheat; but, as the noise prevented his being heard, he jumped over the table at one bound, helped himself, and bounded back again. Two or three young Crickets and five or six Midges sat at a little side mushroom. They made more noise than all the grownup people put together; and the lady Butterfly looked round at them with a smile once or twice, quite delighted to see them so happy, and to hear their merry voices ringing through the woods.

With steps more majestic the Snail did advance, And he promised the gazers a minuet dance; But they all laughed so loudly, he pulled in his head, And went, in his own little chamber, to bed.

After dinner the ball began, and it was the strangest ball that ever was seen. The trumpeter Gadfly and a number of his relations, besides several Grasshoppers and Bees, were the chief musicians. They wanted a bass very much at first, but the Bull-frog offered his services, although he confessed that he was accustomed to sing alone. Then the gentlemen drew on their gloves, flattened their wings, pulled up their collars, and coiled away their tails; while the ladies tightened their garters, ruffled their feathers, and put out their feelers. Oh how they did dance! reels were nothing to it. The greatest difficulty was to keep the Grasshoppers in order. They became so excited that they sprang quite out of sight every moment, and so lost their partners, and ran against everybody in searching for them. Then the Bull-frog, who sang bass, got a little too much of the dew, and sang so loudly, that he quite drowned all the other players. So Mrs Butterfly put her claws in her ears, and running up to him, said, “Oh! dear Mr Bull-frog, pray do not sing quite so loudly.” The poor Bull-frog was almost weeping with joy at the merry scene before him, but he blushed very green on hearing this, and said he had forgotten what he was doing, but would try to be more careful. However, in five minutes more he was worse than ever, so they sent a few hundred bees to sing treble beside him, and try to keep him in order. In the middle of all this there was a sudden stop, and a Snail, stepping forward, offered to dance a minuet. This was received with such a roar of laughter that the poor snail, half frightened, half angry, drew in his horns and went to bed on the spot, and the dance was begun anew. By this time the Gnats and Midges, and some of the other flies, had left the ground and retired to enjoy a cool dance in the air. Two or three Spiders mounted up into the oak, and fastened threads to some of the branches, by which they dropped suddenly down among the dancers, and, seizing their partners round the waist, carried them screaming in among the leaves. So the fun and the noise became louder and louder. On the ground, under the bushes, among the branches of the trees, and in the air, the dancers bounded, skipped, laughed, sang, shouted, and flew in a way that had never been seen or heard of before. The merry old Bull-frog became quite absurd. He sang and roared like a lion; took up all the young insects in his arms and hugged them; tumbled over the other musicians, and, in short, did so many wild things that they were at length obliged to tie him to a paddock-stool, where they left him to enjoy himself.

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