That night Mrs. Cricky told all the little Cricketses she hoped they
would remember Sandy's honor, and that if they helped other people they,
too, might be honored some day. Chee and Chirk and Chirp looked much
awed, and waved their little pink clover sunbonnets helplessly in the
air till Father Cricky said he did wish they would stop, it kept him
from seeing the music he was studying for the Marsh Grass Vesper
Quartette.
"What is it, Father?" called Chee, who was always curious.
"It's a Cantata," said Mr. Cricky. Chee nudged Chirk and whispered:
"Say, what's that?"
"O, I don't know," said Chirk, "let's ask him to sing it, then we'll
find out."
"All right, you do," said Chee.
Father Cricky was very glad to sing it, and this was the song he sang:
_Tree-Top Cantata
Moderately fast_
Swing tree top, swing,
This morning bright
Swing gold and green
In gay sunlight
Swing, tree-top, swing.
Swing tree top, swing
In night time too,
There's shining stars,
And falling dew,
Swing, tree-top, swing.
THE WALKING STICK
The Walking Stick was soberly walking down the path looking spindly in
every way: long, thin legs and a long thin body that were for all the
world like a stick. Probably you have seen the Walking Stick many times
and thought him just a twig. If you hadn't been in such a hurry you
might have seen something interesting. Each time he picked up a leg, he
seemed to wave it in the air before he put it down again.
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