The Ant and the Cricket

A silly young Cricket, accustomed to Sing through the Warm, Sunny Months of Gay Summer, and Spring,
Begin to Complain, when he Found that at Home his cupboard was empty, and Winter has come.
Not a Crumb to be found on the Snow-covered Ground; not a Flower could he See, not a Leaf on a Tree:
"Oh, what will become," says the Cricket,"of me?"

At last by Starvation, and Famine made bold, All dripping wet, and trembling with Cold, away off to a Miserly Ant, to See if, to keep him Alive, he would Grant him Shelter from Rain; a Mouthful of Grain he Wishes only to Borrow, He'd repay it tomorrow; if not, he must Die of Starvation, and Sorrow.

Says the Ant to the Cricket,"I'm your Servant, and Friend, but We Ants Never Lend; but Tell Me, dear Sir, did your Lay nothing by when Weather was warm?"

The Cricket replied,"Not I."
My Heart was so Light that I Sang Day, and Night, For All Nature looked gay."

"You Sang, Sir, you say? Go then," said the Ant, "and Dance Winter away."

Thus Ending, he hastily Lifted the Wicket, and out of the Door turned the poor little Cricket. Though this is a Fable, the Moral is Good: if you live wihout Work, You must live without Food.

Author:Anonymous
Rewrote, and worded by: Me