In a bright, blooming garden, under a big sunflower, there lived a cheerful little ladybug named Lucy. All over her back, she had bright red spots. She was not big — no bigger than a little pea — but she was very happy. The garden was very pleasant and Lucy had many friends.
At the time of our story, Lucy had just finished playing with her friends. They had been flying and hopping about the garden, when suddenly the sun said: “Twilight is coming. You had better go home before it becomes dark.” So all the friends went home except Lucy. She sat down on a dainty bluebell which bent low with her weight.
She looked all around. “Oh dear,” she said to herself, sighing, “I am too drowsy to move even a little bit.” And little by little, her head began to nod. “If I only had a pillow, I should sleep nicely, but without one, one can’t very well,” she thought. So saying, she closed her eyes and was just sinking into a sweet sleep, when she heard a gentle voice say:
“Promise to wake up early in the morning, for we will play again, and to-morrow will be Wednesday.”
Lucy opened one eye, but she felt too drowsy to answer, so she closed it. The kind voice said again: “Promise, dear Lucy. You know it is our play-day.”
Lucy gave a deep sigh and said: “Yes, yes,” and went fast asleep.
The next morning the kind voice, that belonged to her friend Polly the Pink Butterfly, was the first thing that she heard. Polly was trembling all over, her pink wings were as wet as if it had been raining, for it had rained all night.
“Dear Lucy,” she cried, “wake up! I am here and the sun has just come out. The flowers are waiting for you. Hollyhock has a new dress and little Thomasa had a sipping breakfast. To-day is — dearest Lucy, wake up! I can’t wait longer,” and Polly gently touched with her little antennae Lucy’s dainty dress, whereupon Lucy opened her eyes and pushed her pretty little head out of the bluebell, and the warm sunshine kissed all her tiny spots.
“It is too early this morning,” said Lucy, yawning, “What do you want, dear Polly?”
“You promised last night that you would get up early. It is bright and warm already and we have to hurry if we want to play hop, skip, and jump before dinner.”
“Dear me, how sleepy I am. Can not this day be put off for a long while? I am too tired to play, I can’t come,” and she drew her head back into the bluebell.
“Yes, you can come,” said Polly. “I will wait for you. Come, dear Lucy, my dress is dripping with dew from waiting so long. Come and put on something dry.” And she lighted down delicately on a big daisy which Lucy had usually loved to pay her visits. But Lucy shook her head a little and went to sleep. Polly the Pink Butterfly flew several times around the bluebell. She, too, was tired out. So at last she went to fly with her other little friends, but she said to herself: “In the afternoon we can go and see Lucy again. She must surely have slept enough.”
All morning and all afternoon Polly the Pink Butterfly played hop, skip, and jump with her other friends in the garden, but even when the friendly garden-purl and the waving feathery daisies and the trembling geraniums reminded her every now and then to go and see Lucy, she did not once go. But at last, in the evening twilight, she sat down on a daisy opposite the bluebell.
“Dear Lucy,” she called softly, “come out please.” But no answer came.
“Dear Lucy,” she called a little louder, “come out, dear Lucy, it is late.” Still no answer.
Then she gave a little light rap on the bluebell and pushed her antennae in, but Lucy was not there. The pretty little ladybug had gone home then. She had forgotten her promise to Polly. Forgotten her friend. Forgotten everything in the world.