There were enough night noises before Chirpy Cricket came to live in the farmyard. What with Solomon Owl’s hooting, his cousin Simon Screecher’s quavering call, and the musical Frog’s family’s concerts in Cedar Swamp, it was a wonder that Johnnie Green ever managed to fall asleep. The Katydids alone were almost enough to drive anybody frantic—if he let himself listen to them—with their everlasting cry of Katy did, Katy did; she did, she did.

Johnnie Green himself said he wished the Crickets had gone somewhere else to spend the summer. At least, he thought they might play some other tune besides cr-r-r-i! cr-r-r-i! cr-r-r-i! over and over again. If they would only fiddle “Yankee Doodle” now and then he said he wouldn’t mind lying awake a while to listen to it.

Perhaps Chirpy Cricket heard what Johnnie Green said. Maybe he wanted to punish him. Anyhow, he crept into the farmhouse one evening and found his way into Johnnie Green’s chamber, where he hid in a gaping crack behind the baseboard. And that very night, as soon as Johnnie Green put out his light and jumped into bed, Chirpy Cricket began to fiddle for him.

Johnnie had been sleepy. But the moment Chirpy Cricket began fiddling right there in his room he became wide awake. He had had no idea how loudly one of the Cricket family could play his cr-r-r-i! cr-r-r-i! cr-r-r-i! indoors. The high, shrill sound was piercing. It rang in Johnnie’s ears and drowned the muffled concert of the fields and swamp which the light breeze bore through the window.

For a few minutes Johnnie lay still. And then he sat up in bed. “I’ll have to get up and find that fellow,” he said. “If I don’t, he’ll keep me awake.”

The moment he stirred, the fiddling stopped short. Johnnie was glad of that. And once more he laid his head upon his pillow. But in a few moments that cr-r-r-i! cr-r-r-i! rang out again.

Then Johnnie Green tried several remedies. He shook the bed. He knocked over a chair. He caught up a shoe and threw it toward a corner of the room, whence the sound seemed to come. And then he threw the other shoe.

Every time Johnnie Green made a noise Chirpy Cricket stopped fiddling. And if Johnnie had had enough shoes no doubt he could have kept Chirpy from making any more music that night. But of course Johnnie couldn’t have slept any, if he had done that. Besides, he would have kept the whole family awake, too. He thought of that after he had hurled the second shoe. For his father called up the stairs and asked him what was the matter.

“There’s an old Cricket in my room!” Johnnie explained. “He’s keeping me awake.”

“I should think you were keeping him awake,” said Farmer Green. “Get up and look for him if you must.... But don’t let him bite you!”

“You wouldn’t joke if this old Cricket was in your room,” Johnnie grumbled.

He did not grumble often. But he had had a long, hard day, swimming in the mill-pond and climbing apple trees. And he wanted to go to sleep.

Johnnie Green thought it was no time to crack jokes.