A QUEER WAY TO HELP
MRS. LADYBUG wished that she hadn't come to the vegetable garden to see the person who called herself Mrs. Ladybug's cousin. She wasn't at all the sort of relation that Mrs. Ladybug cared to have.
Although the stranger in yellow was most agreeable, somehow Mrs. Ladybug disliked her exceedingly. And strange to say, Mrs. Ladybug couldn't have told exactly what it was in her cousin that displeased her. It wasn't alone the yellow gown that the new cousin wore. Nor her simpering smile. Nor her trifling manner. It was something else--something that made Mrs. Ladybug feel that she was not to be trusted.
"I must hurry back to the orchard," Mrs. Ladybug announced. "There's work waiting for me there. I really ought not to have left it to come to see you."
"Don't take your work so seriously!" her cousin advised her. "You ought to take more time for amusement. I hope you'll come to see me often."
Mrs. Ladybug's opinion of the stranger sank even lower.
"If some of us weren't earnest about our work the rest of the world would have a sorry time," she declared. "I may as well tell you that I shall not be able to call on you again. I shall be too busy. And there's no use of my urging you to come to see me, because of course you have your work to do too."
"Oh, naturally!" said Mrs. Ladybug's cousin with an odd smile. "Still, I could leave it once in a while to make a cousinly call."
"It won't be necessary," Mrs. Ladybug told her. "If I need you, I'll send for you." And she said to herself grimly, under her breath, "She'll never hear from me."
"If I can help you at any time, don't fail to let me know," the cousin told Mrs. Ladybug. "Doubtless I could be of some service, though I'd always rather work on vines--squash and pumpkin preferred."
Mrs. Ladybug thanked her. "I shouldn't want her helping me," she thought. "I'll warrant she's so careless that she would do more harm than good." And Mrs. Ladybug looked at the vine on which they were standing.
"I see you're helping Farmer Green with his squash vines at present," she remarked aloud.
"Yes!" said her cousin. "I have this one almost finished."
"Good!" said Mrs. Ladybug. And she took a closer look at the vine. It seemed far from healthy. In fact she noticed that the leaves were tattered and torn.
"What are these great holes in the squash leaves?" she inquired.
Her cousin fidgeted and made no reply. Glancing at her, Mrs. Ladybug thought she was growing a bit red in the face.
Then all at once Mrs. Ladybug guessed the dreadful truth.
"You've been eating these leaves!" she cried.
Her cousin tossed her head.
"A person has to eat something," she retorted.
Mrs. Ladybug threw up her hands.
"I knew you weren't trustworthy," she muttered. "I knew you weren't the sort of relation I'd want anything to do with."
Then Mrs. Ladybug left her.
Later, when Chirpy Cricket met her, he asked her if she had seen her cousin who was spending the summer among the squash vines. And he was astonished when Mrs. Ladybug glared at him and exclaimed:
"Never mention her to me again!"