Chirpy Cricket never fiddled faster than he did that night. Somehow he had a notion that the faster he fiddled the more quickly the night would pass. For Freddie Firefly had promised to loan Chirpy his light, because Chirpy needed it when he saw Miss Christabel Cricket to her home beyond the barnyard fence. Chirpy was going to see her safely to her door when the night’s concert was ended. And he could hardly wait until the time came when he would flash that wonderful light in the eyes of all his friends.

“I hope you won’t go dancing across the meadow tonight,” he remarked anxiously to Freddie Firefly. “You might wander into the swamp and get lost.”

“Oh, there’s no danger of that!” Freddie assured him.

“If you stumbled into the wet swamp you might put your light out,” Chirpy Cricket warned him.

But Freddie Firefly laughed and told him not to worry.

“I always enjoy at least one dance in the meadow each night,” he explained. “They’re expecting me over there now. And I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“No!” Chirpy answered. “And neither do you want to disappoint me. So please don’t fail to be on hand when the music’s finished.”

After telling Chirpy that he wouldn’t fail him, Freddie Firefly flitted away. But in spite of what he had said Chirpy Cricket couldn’t help feeling nervous and uneasy. And he fiddled so fast that the other fiddlers kept complaining. They said he wasn’t playing in time.

Chirpy Cricket was too well-mannered to contradict them. But he had his own opinion, which he kept to himself. He thought his companions were out of time. “Goodness!” he exclaimed under his breath. “I near heard such slow fiddling in all my life!”

There was another way, too, in which Chirpy annoyed the others. He kept asking them—first one and then another—what time it was. And of course nobody wants to stop and look at his watch when he is fiddling.

At last one of his cousins told him, in answer to his question, that it was time to stop talking and pay attention to the music.

After that Chirpy Cricket tried to be patient. But it was hard not to be restless. And he kept leaping into the air, hoping to get a glimpse of Freddie Firefly’s twinkling light. For it seemed to him that Freddie would never return from the meadow.

At last the fiddlers stopped playing, one after another; for the night was going fast. The Cricket family always liked to be home before daylight.

Chirpy had almost given up hope of seeing Freddie Firefly. But to his great delight Freddie came skipping up just as Chirpy stood before Miss Christabel Cricket, whom he expected to see to her home.

“I’m glad you’ve come!” Chirpy greeted him. “I’ll take your light now. And I’ll return it to you to-morrow night.”

“Oh! That would be too much trouble for you,” Freddie Firefly said. “I’ll go right along with you and your young lady. And after I’ve lighted her home I’ll do the same thing for you.”

“Oh! That would be too much trouble for you,” Chirpy Cricket objected. “Let me take the light, please!” He certainly didn’t want Freddie Firefly tagging along with Miss Christabel Cricket and himself.

Of course, Freddie Firefly couldn’t give Chirpy his light. It was just as much a part of him as his head. And since Chirpy Cricket began to get excited, and said again and again that the light had been promised him, in the end Freddie had to explain everything.

It was a great disappointment to Chirpy Cricket. He had expected to have wonderful fun, flashing Freddie Firefly’s light.

But Miss Christabel Cricket did not seem to mind in the least.

“You oughtn’t to blame Freddie Firefly for not loaning his light,” she said. “You know you wouldn’t let him take your fiddle.”

Well, Chirpy Cricket hadn’t thought of that. And he had to admit that what she said was true.

And just then the sun peeped over Blue Mountain. So everybody hurried home alone, after all.