While they were talking, the little ant crept to the edge of the table, and down the side, and was soon lost among the blades of grass.
“He will never find his way,” said Mary.
“Let him alone for that,” said father. “The ants have paths leading from their hill. They never lose their way. But they meet with sad accidents sometimes. What do you think I saw the other day? One of these small chaps—it may have been this very one—was carrying home a scrap of something in his jaws for the youngsters at home. As he ran along, a bird dropped an ivy berry on him. Poor mite of a thing! This was worse than if a cannon ball were to fall from the sky on one of us.
He lay under it, not able to move. By-and-by one of his brother ants, who was taking a stroll, caught sight of him under the berry.
“What did he do?” said Mary.
“First he tried to push the berry off his friend’s body, but it was too heavy. Next he caught hold of one of his friend’s legs with his jaws, and tugged till I thought it would come off. Then he rushed about in a frantic state, as if he were saying to himself, ‘What shall I do?
what shall I do?’ And then he ran off up the path. In another minute he came hurrying back with three other ants.”
“Is it quite true, father?”
“Quite. The four ants talked together by gentle touches of their horns. They looked as if they were telling one another what a dreadful accident it was, and how nobody knew whose turn would come next. After this they set to work with a will. Two of them pushed the berry as hard as they could, while the other two pulled their friend out by the hind legs. When at last he was free, they crowded round as if petting and kissing him. You see these little ant folk have found out that ‘’Tis love, love, love, that makes the world go round.’ I shouldn’t wonder if that ant you teased so thoughtlessly is gone off to tell the news at home that there is a drop of honey to be had here.”
“Oh, he couldn’t, father!”
“Wait and see,” said father.
In a little while back came the ant with a troop of friends.
“He has been home and told them the good news about the honey,” said father. “Do you think that all children are as kind as that?”
Mary said, “No, they’re not. I don’t run to call all the others when I find a good place for blackberries.”
“Then,” said father, “don’t be unkind to the ant, who is kinder than you, though he is only a little tiny thing.”