The Ants and the Grasshopper

Once upon a time, in a warm meadow, there lived some ants — small, red and hard-working. And close by, in the tall grass, lived a green Grasshopper.

It was summer. The sun was warm, the daisies were blooming, and the ants hurried back and forth along the path. Each one carried a grain, and some carried one bigger than themselves!

"Grain by grain and bit by bit, soon our home is full of it!" the ants chanted.

And the Grasshopper sat on a blade of grass and played his little fiddle:

"Tring-tring! Tring-tring!"

"Grasshopper, come and join us!" called the smallest ant. "Help us carry the grain."

"Oh, I don’t want to," laughed the Grasshopper. "Look how blue the sky is! What do I need grain for? I’m going to sing."

"And what will you eat in winter?"

"Winter is far, far away!" The Grasshopper waved a leg. And off he went again: tring-tring!

Then the hot days came. The ants hauled grain until their little backs shone. But the Grasshopper lay in the shade under a burdock leaf.

"Oh, take a rest!" he called. "Listen to my new song instead!"

"No time, Grasshopper," puffed the smallest ant, and ran on. "Grain by grain and bit by bit, soon our home is full of it!"

A day went by, a week went by, the whole summer went by. The ants carried, and the Grasshopper sang. The ants carried, and the Grasshopper sang.

The leaves turned yellow. A cold wind blew — shhh! And then — puff, puff — down came the snow.

Inside the anthill it was warm. The storerooms were full. One bright day the ants brought a little grain out into the sunshine to dry.

And just then — scritch-scratch across the snow — along hobbled the Grasshopper. His wings were shaking, his feelers drooped, his tummy rumbled. He wanted to play to warm himself up, but his legs were so stiff with cold that the fiddle only creaked: "Cre-e-eak."

"Dear ants," he whispered. "Please give me just one grain. I’m so hungry!"

The ants put down their grain and looked at him.

"And what did you do in the summer?" asked the oldest ant.

"Me? I sang! I sang the whole summer long. I had no time to carry grain."

The oldest ant shook her head.

"In summer we carried, and you sang. Our grain is for our little ones, and there’s only just enough to last till spring. Whoever sings the summer away has empty paws when winter comes."

The smallest ant remembered calling the Grasshopper to the path back when the daisies were still in bloom. She sighed, but said nothing.

The Grasshopper stood there for a while, shifted from one foot to the other, and set off across the white snow. He carried his fiddle under his arm, and this time it was silent.