The Woggle-Bug Book Page 3

of the gown good-bye on herdoor-step.

  "Sure like!" she replied, not caring to dismiss him harshly; and thehappy Woggle-Bug went home with a light heart, murmuring to himself:

  "At last the lovely plaids are to be my own! The new hat I found at theball has certainly brought me luck."

  I am glad our friend the Woggle-Bug had those few happy moments, for hewas destined to endure severe disappointments in the near future.

  That evening he carefully brushed his coat, put on a green satinnecktie and a purple embroidered waist-coat, and walked briskly towardsthe house of the widow. But, alas! as he drew near to the dwelling amost horrible stench greeted his nostrils, a sense of great depressioncame over him, and upon pausing before the house his body began totremble and his eyes rolled wildly in their sockets.

  For the wily widow, wishing to escape her admirer, had sprinkled thedoor-step and the front walk with insect Exterminator, and not even theWoggle-Bug's love for the enchanting checked gown could induce him tolinger longer in that vicinity.

  Sick and discouraged, he returned home, where his first act was tosmash the luckless hat and replace it with another. But it was sometime before he recovered from the horrors of that near approach toextermination, and he passed a very wakeful and unhappy night, indeed.

  Meantime the widow had traded with a friend of hers (who had once beena wash-lady for General Funston) the Wagnerian costume for a crazyquilt and a corset that was nearly as good as new and a pair of silkstockings that were not mates. It was a good bargain for both of them,and the wash-lady being colored--that is, she had a deep mahoganycomplexion--was delighted with her gorgeous gown and put it on the verynext morning when she went to deliver the wash to the brick-layer'swife.

  Surely it must have been Fate that directed the Woggle-Bug's steps;for, as he walked disconsolately along, an intuition caused him toraise his eyes, and he saw just ahead of him his affinity--carrying alarge clothes-basket.

  "Stop!" he called our, anxiously; "stop, my fair Grenadine, I imploreyou!"

  The colored lady cast one glance behind her and imagined that Satan hadat last arrived to claim her. For she had never before seen theWoggle-Bug, and was horrified by his sudden and unusual appearance.

  "Go 'way, Mars' Debbil! Go 'way an' lemme 'lone!" she screeched, andthe next minute she dropped her empty basket and sped up the streetwith a swiftness that only fear could have lent her flat-bottomed feet.

  Nevertheless, the Woggle-Bug might have overtaken her had he notstepped into the clothes-basket and fallen headlong, becoming sotangled up in the thing that he rolled over and over several timesbefore he could free himself. Then, when he had picked up his hat,which was utterly ruined, and found his cane, which had flown acrossthe street, his mahogany charmer in the Wagnerian Plaids haddisappeared from view.

  With a sigh at his latest misfortune he returned home for another hat,and the agitated wash-lady, imagining that the devil had doubtless beenlured by her beautiful gown, made haste to sell it to a Chinaman wholived next door.

  Its bright colors pleased the Chink, who ripped it up and made it overinto a Chinese robe, with flowing draperies falling to his heels. Hedressed himself in his new costume and, being proud of possessing suchfinery, sat down on a bench outside his door so that everyone passingby could see how magnificent he looked.

  It was here the wandering Woggle-Bug espied him; and, recognizing atonce the pattern and colors of his infatuating idol, he ran up and satbeside the Chinaman, saying in agitated but educated tones:

  "Oh my prismatic personification of gigantic gorgeousness!--again Ihave found you!"

  "Sure tling," said the Chink with composure.

  "Be mine! Only be mine!" continued the enraptured Woggle-Bug.

  The Chinaman did not quite understand.

  "Two dlolla a day," he answered, cautiously.

  "Oh, joy," exclaimed the insect in delight; "I can then own you for aday and a half--for I have three dollars left. May I feel yourexquisite texture, my dearest Fabric?"

  "No flabic. No feelee. You too flesh. I _man_ Chinaman!" returned theOriental calmly.

  "Never mind that! 'Tis your beautiful garment I love. Every check inthat entrancing dress is a joy and a delight to my heart!"

  While the Woggle-Bug thus raved, the Chinaman's wife (who was Mattie DeForest before she married him) heard the conversation, and decided thislove affair had gone far enough. So she suddenly appeared with abroomstick, and with it began pounding the Woggle-Bug as fiercely aspossible--and Mattie was no weakling, I assure you.

  The first blow knocked the Insect's hat so far over his eyes that hewas blinded; but, resolving not to be again cheated out of his darling,he grasped firmly hold of the Wagnerian plaids with all four hands, andtore a goodly portion of it from the frightened Celestial's body.

  Next moment he was dashing down the street, with the precious clothtucked securely underneath an arm, and Mattie, being in slightdishabile, did not think best to follow him.

  The triumphant joy of the Woggle-Bug can well be imagined. No more needhe chase the fleeting vision of his love--no more submit to countlessdisappointments in his efforts to approach the object of his affection.The gorgeous plaids were now his own (or a large part of them, anyway),and upon reaching the quiet room wherein he lodged he gloated long andhappily over its vivid coloring and violent contrasts of its glowinghues. To the eyes of the Woggle-Bug nothing could be more beautiful,and he positively regretted the necessity of ever turning his gaze fromthis bewitching treasure.

  That he might never in the future be separated from the checks, hefolded them, with many loving caresses, into compact form, and wrappedthem in a sheet of stout paper tied with cotton cord that had alove-knot at the end. Wherever he went, thereafter, he carried theparcel underneath his left upper arm, pressed as closely to his heartas possible. And this sense of possession was so delightful that ourWoggle-Bug was happy as the day is long.

  In the evening his fortunes changed with cruel abruptness.

  He walked out to take the air, and noticing a crowd people standing inan open space and surrounding a huge brown object, our Woggle-Bugstopped to learn what the excitement was about.

  Pushing his way through the crowd, and hugging his precious parcel, hesoon reached the inner circle of spectators and found they hadassembled to watch a balloon ascension. The Professor who was to go upwith the balloon had not yet arrived; but the balloon itself was fullyinflated and tugging hard at the rope that held it, as if anxious toescape the blended breaths of the people that crowded around. Justbelow the balloon was a small basket, attached to the netting of thegas-bag, and the Woggle-Bug was bending over the edge of this, to seewhat it contained, when a warning cry from the crowd caused him topause and glance over his shoulder.

  Great horrors and crumpled creeps! Springing toward him, with a scowlon his face and a long knife with a zig-zag blade in his uplifted hand,was that very Chinaman from whose body he had torn the Wagnerianplaids!

  The plundered Celestial was evidently vindictive, and intended to pushthe wicked knife into the Woggle-Bug's body.

  Our hero was a brave bug, as can easily be proved; but he did not waitfor the knife to arrive at the broad of his back. Instead, he gave ayell (to show he was not afraid) and leaped nimbly into the basket ofthe balloon. The descending knife, missing its intended victim, fellupon the rope and severed it, and instantly the great balloon from thecrowd and soared majestically toward the heavens.

  The Woggle-Bug had escaped the Chinaman, but he didn't know whether tobe glad or not.

  For the balloon was earning him into the clouds, and he had no idea howto manage it, or to make it descend to earth again. When he peered overthe edge of the basket he could hear the faint murmur of the crowd, anddimly see the enraged Professor (who had come too late) pounding theChinaman, while the Chinaman tried to dissect the Professor with hisknife.

  Then all was blotted out; clouds rolled about him; night fell. The manin the moon laughed at him; the stars winked at e
ach other as ifdelighted at the Woggle-Bug's plight, and a witch riding by on herbroomstick yelled at him to keep on the right side of the road, and notrun her down.

  But the Woggle-Bug, squatted in the bottom of the basket and hugginghis precious parcel to his bosom, paid no attention to anything but hisown thoughts.

  He had often ridden in the Gump; but never had he been so high as this,and the distance to the ground made him nervous.

  When morning came he saw a strange country far beneath him, and longedto tread the earth again.

  Now all woggle-bugs are born with wings, and our highly-magnified onehad a beautiful, broad pair of floppers concealed beneath amplecoat-tails. But long ago he had learned that his wings were not strongenough to lift his big body from the ground, so he had never tried tofly with them.

  Here, however, was an occasion when he might put these wings to gooduse, for if he spread them in the air and then leaped over the