One summer night a little firefly flew out into the world. Flicker was his name, and he was very much excited over his first outing. It was really his first time out into the great world, for fireflies never light up until they are grown up, so Flicker had never lit up his light before.
As he flew up into the air Flicker looked down and saw a little brown squirrel just coming out of his house in the hollow tree. “Oh, I must speak to him,” said Flicker to himself, for it made him very happy to feel that he had friends everywhere. “Mr. Squirrel, Mr. Squirrel!” Flicker cried, “you have no idea how lovely it is up here!”
“Yes, I can see how lovely it is down here,” said Mr. Squirrel. “What is it that shines so brightly just over my head? It makes me suspicious andI thought it might be—you—“
“You mean me!” cried Flicker. “Oh, no! Goodness, no! No, indeed! What do you take me for? Another squirrel? Why, I’m a firefly, and you shouldn’t talk about shining to a firefly that way!”
“Then I guess I am mistaken about your shining, that is all,” said Mr. Squirrel, bowing politely. “And who knows? I may yet make your acquaintance another time.”
So saying, he turned around and passed into his dark little house, and he waited for a long while expecting Flicker to follow him. But Flicker had suddenly become very eager to meet more of his fellow creatures.
He looked down to the end of the street where he saw two ants standing still and listening.
“Oh, Ant!” said Flicker, “have you ever been up here? Aren’t you glad to get into the fresh air? I can’t always stay up here because I must take care of my light, you see, but I am so glad that I can come up here now.”
“You might rest yourself usually by going into a dark place,” said one of the ants, “but I am afraid you have a light, or a star, above you all the time.”
“Good evening,” said Flicker. “I don’t like ants who talk that way. If you feel so superior just because you have two more legs than I have, you might be more thankful for what have. If it wasn’t for my fathers it would be no trouble to shine too, I guess.”
“I guess we better keep away from that chap,” said the other ant. When ants get angry they always think it wise to withdraw.
So Flicker went on his way rejoicing that he had met with only one cross creature. He thought how glad the rabbits and mice would be to hear what a nice talk he had had with the Black Squirrel, as well as the ants.
But, just at that moment, Flicker heard a dreadful noise in the grass below him. He lowered himself carefully.
“What is the matter?” he asked meekly of the other fireflies that he saw standing there.
“Oh, the matter!” said one of them. “We gathered together here this evening after a hard day’s work hoping to have a happy little gathering, for there is nothing we like better, but the pompous Mr. Elk had to barge in with his loud voice, and not content with that, he insisted upon singing one of his silly songs to the crickets of the upper world. They say he has a good voice but requires close attention and continual audience if one may remain seated at home, and since they allow one to remain in a dreamless sleep we prefer that, to being jostled out of our day’s rest to hear him practice his scales. Oh, if he would only go back into the woods whence he came, and exercise his voice there—“
“But really, where is he now?” Flicker asked with some impatience, for he wanted a change himself after all the other stories he had heard that night, and how they would tease him. To think that among all the creatures he knew, he had never once met with old Mr. Elk.
“Oh, he is there to the left, methinks,” one of the other fireflies answered Flicker, pointing with his head. Flicker immediately guided himself thither.
“Good-evening!” said Flicker, this time REALLY pleased at getting so near to another creature. “Are you not related to my humble self?”
“Good-evening,” said Brimstone Elk, “yes! to be sure. My father—“
But here he cleared hisvoice, looked importantly around and began to sing. Flicker was pleased with this, strange to say.
The professor then cleared his voice, and the fireflies said:
“Can’t you keep that sort of thing at your own home?” and they at once flew up between Flicker and the professor and began to dash blindly against their large bodies which made it uncomfortably hot for them, so they went away.
The professor then walked slowly to a place adjacent to his family mansion where an old withered and cragged spruce spoke to him gently when he passed, and a few trees smiled as brightly as they could, as he walked to them, lose or die after some extended conversation.
Now it was quite dark, and Flicker did not know which way to turn. Everyone had refused to sit in his company, and she neglected him altogether. “Don’t you think we ought to light up our lights, just round over here?” a timid little firefly said, who had hidden behind a large leaf since they started.
“No! yes! no! yes! yes!” said Flicker, “yes! let us light them all. Shine bright, shine bright!”
And as he said the last words one of the other fireflies snatched down a beautiful little silver bell that hung from a freshly blossomed vine while the sweetest music resounded ever where.
“We have forgotten to greet the main street with our light,” said Flicker. “Come, fireflies! shine on every street there is opening just above here.”
There was great joy at the early concert of the crickets of the upper world. Never had they listened to a better concert, they assured him. The may bug had heard little of the cricket side of the grass-concert, which had taken place in his neighborhood, such a short time previously, but now he flew over to the other guests and agreed cheerfully to accompany their songs with a dance towards the trees in front of their house. “There is no true joy in this world without in some way helping our fellow creatures,” Flicker said, when everything before and around was filled with life. The spring-Queens who ruled the green world pitied their neighbors while they first remained lying still and become so afraid of gratitude, for good and useful ideas are always fearfully crazy- and wise-having.
“Only see how glad all our friends were,” said Flicker the Firefly to himself when he fluttered joyfully homewards where he was met by his family questioning him hurriedly how he had fared.
But Flicker had had enough of it all.
“You should not expect anything when you do nothing, however exciting it may be,” said Flicker. “When you do nothing you should sit at home—“
Now Flicker saw him no more from that time forward.