The Adventurous Little Snail

Once upon a time, in a lush garden full of flowers, grasses, and delicious vegetables, there lived a little snail. His name was Sammy. Sammy had a soft shell on his back and moved very slowly. One sunny spring day, he peeked his little head out of his shell and looked all around. “Oh dear! How lovely! I wish I could climb those green blades of grass to the top of the gate post,” said Sammy.

So he began to climb one of the blades of grass. But by the time he nearly reached the top, he got so tired that he sat down to rest himself.

Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! What noise was that?

“Why, it is only the Peters’ chickens,” said Sammy. “They are clucking to one another as they scratch for the seeds under the bushes. I wish I could get to those seeds,” said Sammy. “But I never could climb so high, as the first step of the hen’s foot is twice as high as I am from my eyes to my toes.”

So he had to be satisfied with the view of the Peters’ chickens. I may tell you, however, that old Mother Peters took her tin pail and sprinkled some corn before the chickens, and made them quite happy.

The sun came out bright and hot, then became dark and sulky. After that, the rain poured down, and the gardener had to put on his big, rubber boots to keep his feet dry.

The next day Sammy crawled up to the top of the gate post, and what should he see but the most beautiful flower garden in the world. All sorts of flowers were growing in pretty beds. There were sweet-smelling, pink, and white flowers over toward the right side of the garden, and down in the violet beds, violets were blooming. There were daisies with golden eyes and cowslips hanging their yellow bells. There were dark marigolds and beautiful Hollyhocks growing right straight to the skies. And near the fence, towards the left, there were rows and rows of sweet-smelling green peas and delicious vegetables.

“Ah! It is a fine world,” said Sammy the Snail. Then he called out, “Hello! below there! I am at the top of the post.”

The blackbird looked up but saw no one. So he hopped up nearer to see if it were true. The Peters’ chickens looked to see what nice food was coming to them. Old Mother Peters looked over her spectacles to see which of her chickens were behind.

And they all cried together, Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! and Cluck! Cluck! Cluck! Oh dear! How frightfully they made the noise! But Sammy up on the fence post was looking about the most pleasant view he could see.

At last he crawled slowly down. Then he crept across the path into the meadow that opened from the garden. And there he went still slower towards the tall trees and the flowery grass. But he came to no harm, though several things tried to bite him to start with. A cow, went “Moo,” and would surely have eaten up the little Sally before he was aware, had not Father Busy Bee been hovering about.

“Buzz! Buzz!” he cried. “Oh, you great stupid old cow, don’t you see that I am talking to Sally Snail? Buzz! Buzz!”

Then there was a little girl making a daisy chain, who said: “Ah! this will make a pretty ornament for my doll Alice!” And she stretched out her hand towards Sammy’s house.

But he drew in his head and ran into it. “Don’t be afraid,” said Father Busy Bee. “She only thinks you are a pretty shell.”

Amid all the noise, Sammy toiled on his way, and soon came to the tree-tops, were looking down he heard some pipings and squirrel chatterings. They were chattering, don’t you think, about all they saw? No, indeed. And they found nothing to say, of course, about the little slow snail.

Then Sammy came to a little brook that was murmuring over his pebbly bed. But they watched each other, winking, till at last it reached the end of its journey, when it said: “Oh dear! I am so tired! This is the end of me.”

Then they could no longer see each other, but knew each was very near the end, and so went to sleep.

And Sammy dreamed he was at the garden gate again filled with all his old acquaintances, and that they had all passed away in this dream.

And so in sincerity end their tales and short adventures, as such otherwise would be tedious, and who can do what he wished to go overests.

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