Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 November 1876 — THE" AMBITIOUS FIRE-FLY. [ARTICLE]

THE" AMBITIOUS FIRE-FLY.

in foe world are you gbingr’ said an apple-blossojn on Ike topmost boflgh ol' a great apple-tree, to a ftrSf-tHyth* was flying by,one lovely June night. “You Unshed into my dream like a wee sunbeam, and I awoke, thinking surety wonting hnd coma.”* “ Dm not going in tEe world at-ali,” answered the fire-fly, pausing in his flight. “ I’m going abovi the world, to be a star!” shone his >. j Jndead!” said pretty apple-blos-gOmai# do ryon really think' you will like ity so far aw fly from all your friends? And won’t you miss the pleasant evenings in the lneadow, and the gay dances I so often see you fire-flies dancing hour after hour ? Apples and pears 1 how you da whirl around. It makes my, .head dizzy, just to look at you.” , “ Oh! I shall forget all that when I’m a star L” said the fire-fly. “ Stars are so high-minded they hold themselves very. much above such trifling amusements.” “Well, they tumble each other out of the sky sornetimos, for I’ye seen many a falling star since I first opened my- leaves, and I don’t think that’s very pretty oon duct,” said the apple-blossom; “much worse than dancing, I should say. And oh! now wouldn’t it be sad if they didn’t like you after you got there, and tumbled you out ? Such a very long way to fall, you know!” But the fire-fly went on without noticing thede last remarks. He evidently did not like them. “They have plenty of the brightest, the most sparkling, company every night, and as for the evenings in the meadow, to tell the honest truth, I’m rather tired of them, the frogs do sing ao dreadfully out of tune, and the katy-aids keep saying the same thing over and over. True, 1 am the largest ami most brilliant fire-fly of the season, and, in consequence, much honored’ and admired bv *the other insects of the night; but that goes for nothing when a fire fly feels that beds out of his sphere—that he was meant for a star. But good-bye! I can’t stop longer talking here, fl hope you wIJJ; become a fine ap PK for. Malty, your’Dai Very nice blossom.

I won’t forget you. I’ll look down on you when I take my place iu the sky. By- “ Good-bye,” said the apple-blossom, wondering if that last speech could be taken as a compliment or not, and then she went to sleep again. Up flew the Are-fly until he met a cloud that was teasing the ■ moon by scurrying before her, and hiding her face from the earthy . , “Hallo!” said the cloud, ‘“what’s this? A bit broken off a star? .No! that wouldn’t have legs. A piece of very; late sunshine? No! that wouldn’t have wings. A specie of lightning? No! that wouldn’t have a head. What are you, thing ?’ ’ The fire-fly trembled. It had so suddenly grown dark, and the cloud spoke in no very gentle tone, but he summoned couragatawnswer, while ho kept his light shin in a Wfghtly: “I am a-fire-fly, ana I came from the aJdßTbelow. ” “ Oh l ybujatiTand you did,’” said the cloud,/‘tend what for I and in its sailedqUlotly away. wantjto be & star,” said the fire-fly, mashingtojiri gleaming and sparkling-like a diamond; “and if I caif leach the sky I’m sutejf shall become one, for, sis you see, I steW a most wonderful light.” “ Wptefbrful light! hqpsense!” said the cloud., iMistars are stirs because they are stars, ahd| fire-flies arc fire-flies because they aki Wre-flies, and: afire-fly can’t be a star any more than a star cad he a fire-fly. Now ckMs can change—-they can be snow or raiq-Ef m thinking of turning into a shower’ittt’self in a few moments—that’; the reason I’m hanging po lore; but stars are stafirand fire-flies are firt-flies.” “ Yokteid that before,” said the firefly, wijte a spiteful littledlash, for he was fettinojgjprry; “ but c>lease let me, pass, ’m gcnlnf to try to be a star, anyhow.” “ YcfiHjilly, conceited young thing!” growlqC'Jbe cloud, looking, darker than ever. I reave a good nfldd to put out your “wonqinhl light’ altogether.’' “ Olafitont!” said the firefly meekly, and hawßdding his wings. “ Oteßftond thought f won’t,” replied the cldSff “You’ll tfee your folly soon on! ” Adi ,ofT*t started' after thempon again. 1 ; By this time the little wanderer was very tMlSand, as he looked above. him, yet to be nUXes and miles awm.4 1

HistreioM grew weary/taid ho was shivertateßto the cold. lighjfr be~> gan to had strength to keeiAbrightnteri be thqustot with regret, t|«e first time sinceJwSiad started on of the pleasant meadow home he hs4 left, of the sweet wild-flow-er* hanging their fliftautlful heads heavy with dew, of the sleeping birds that ever and anon charmed the listening night with tittle tunes they dreamed, of hie sisters and brothers whirling through their mer:ry dances—yes, and even of the frogs whose croaking had «° displeased him, and, the katv-dids who had annoyed him by spring toe same thing over and over. Btill he tried to go on, but his wings refused to obey him, lis light went entirely put, and, almost dead with fear and oold, he began slowly to sink toward the earth. At last, to hto great joy, he found himresting on toe topmost bough of to* Tv Whati am, you ba& againt*' asked tbs apple-blossom, who must have been a very light deeper. i But he waa too tired to reply. De dropped from toe branch, and once more sank riowly through the air, until he touched the dew-gemmed grass of his lustered about him.

“Why?” “Well?” “What?” “How?” they asked. But all ha said was, “ I don’t want to be a star!"— Margaret Eytinge, in WideAudits.