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The Ants And The Cricket

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Once upon a time... one hot summer, a cricket sang cheerfully on the branch

of a tree, while down below, a long line of ants struggled under the

weight of their load of grains; and between one song and the next, the cricket

spoke to the ants. "Why are you working so hard? Come into the shade, away from

the sun, and sing a song with me." But the tireless ants went on with the

work. "We're building for the future, we want to develop our nest and provide

for our babies", they told the Cricket.

So all summer, the cricket sang while the ants laboured. But the days

turned into weeks and the weeks into months. Autumn came, the leaves began to

fall and the cricket left the bare tree. The grass too was turning thin and

yellow. One morning, the cricket woke shivering with cold. An early frost

tinged the fields with white and turned the last of the green leaves brown:

winter had come at last. The cricket wandered, feeding on the few dry stalks

left on the hard frozen ground. Then the snow fell and she could find nothing

at all to eat. Trembling and famished she cried "the government should do something".

Her prayers were heard, a politician said "don't worry Missus Cricket, I will help you,

and seeing as you are an artist and all that you worthy of special support".

So the politician looked around for a solution and he noticed the warm light coming

from the ant's nest. He knocked on the door and said to the ants "You are rich and

have lots of supplies for the cold winter, give me three quarters of them so I can feed

the poor, unfortunate creatures of this land". Despite the Ant's protests the Politician

took 3/4 of their supplies keeping a good chunk for himself but he was able to feed the

Cricket and quite a few of her pals.

Next summer the Cricket was again sitting in the tree reading a newspaper. A few

ants were lolling below with their feet up. "What's happened to your friends?" asked

the Cricket. "The hardest working amongst us left for a nest far away, we barely made it

through last winter. The queen has her supplies stored in the unreachable island in the lake

and we're just doing the bare minimum this summer, the politician can take care of us this winter". The

Cricket smiled and went back to reading her copy of the Guardian happy that the ants

had at last joined her in her paradise.

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