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 Cricket was stretching and rubbing his thin legs; Bumblebee grumbling over the loss of time during the busiest part of the honey season; Cockchafer sobbing over the herbs she had spread to dry, which most certainly were ruined by this time; Firefly and Dragonfly sulkily spreading their wet wings and fretting over the cramped quarters. But Mouse laughed and chattered and told them of Hedgehog and his mock bravery, and in less than a minute they were all laughing away as though they had spent hours longing for the storm. Frog had reached the jug by this time, and sat in the opening watching the hail and the rain, and looking about for Hedgehog. As time went on, however, and the rain turned into a drizzle, they all fell to telling tales and boasting of their adventures.

As for Hedgehog, he never stopped running till he tumbled head over heels into the hollow side of an old stump. He was as wet as a water rat, and as unhappy as a swallow in a snowstorm, but when he suddenly discovered himself in such a comfortable hollow along with a whole meadowful of friends, he stood up grandly on his hind legs and joined loudly in the conversation.

They were all there, every one of his dearest friends. The long-eared strong-legged Hare, the saucy chattering pretty-tailed Squirrel, the keen-eyed sharp-toothed Marmot, and the cranky old thick-coated Badger, and they welcomed him and admired his quills, and listened to him tell of his brave exit from the water jug. Then they all, to pass away the dreary time, fell to telling tales and boasting of their adventures.

But sometime rain must stop, and sometimes talkers must eat. When the first glint of sunlight filtered through the misty air, the little folk in the china jug and the big folk in the hollow stump came picking their feet high over the soaked grasses, sniffing here and there for something to eat.

Such a surprise! Such a treat! Mouse discovered it first. There were wild strawberries as red as jewels hanging daintily from little vines all about the pitcher, and in an overturned basket lay hazelnuts, bits of bread, a square of cheese, and a rather wet but very sweet piece of cake.

»Hmm!« sniffed Hare. »The food that the Children of Men eat.«

»They must have dropped it when the storm broke, and scampered home,« said Marmot. »Seems we’re in luck.«

»Should we eat it? They might come back for it,« ventured honest little Squirrel. »I always go back for food when I leave it, though I do take care to hide it well.«

The animals thought a long time about their rights to the lunch, for they were very fair little folk, and had long since learned to let Man’s things alone. It was true Mouse went into the pantries and Marmot into the rye fields, but neverthlessnevertheless [sic] they liked to believe they only took what was their own.