That was, I
suppose, because he had to, each leg was so very long. The Walking Stick
had been given the name of the "Parson" by some naughty little crickets,
for no other reason, I am sure, than that he was so exceedingly grave.
Chee and Chirk and Chirp were the naughty crickets who gave him the
name, and although Mrs. Cricky said it was unkind, yet other people took
it up. Now Chee and Chirk were waiting for the "Parson" when they saw
him come out of Grass Cottage, where he had been visiting Mrs. Cricky.
"Ssh!" said Chee, "don't make so much noise, he'll hear us. There!
Chirk, take that blade of grass and stretch it across the path. He'll
never see it. They say he's always thinking about things that folks
don't think about at all."
"Say," said Chirk, tugging at the blade of grass, "if I wind it around
this buttercup stalk, will that do?"
"Yes," replied Chee, "here he comes. Oh! I wish Chirp was here!"
Along came the "Parson," gravely swinging one leg after the other in the
air and thinking with much pleasure of the kindliness of Mrs. Cricky who
was always a very cordial hostess.
"Ssh!" whispered Chirk, "he's thinking of Miss K. T. Did. They say--"
But the sentence was never finished, for with a sprawl, the "Parson"
stumbled over the blade of grass and came down on the other side with a
clatter.
"Tee-hee! Tee-hee! Tee-hee!" chirruped both Chee and Chirk, so amused at
the funny tangle of legs in which the Walking Stick was, that they
forgot to run away.
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