“Climbing up on the bed with the rubbers in my mouth is difficult, but it doesn’t make any difference if some of the mud comes off on the side of the bedspread.  In fact, it all helps in the final effect.  I usually try to smear them around when I get them at last on the spread, and if I can leave one of them on the pillow, I feel that it’s a pretty fine little old world, after all.  This done, and I am off.”

And Georgie Dog suddenly disappeared in official pursuit of an automobile going eighty-five miles an hour.

“So now,” said Mother Nature to her little pupils, “we have heard all about Georgie Dog’s work.  To-morrow we may listen to Lillian Mosquito tell how she makes her voice carry across a room.”

ANIMAL STORIES

II

How Lillian Mosquito Projects Her Voice

All the children came crowding around Mother Nature one cold, raw afternoon in summer, crying in unison: 

“Oh, Mother Nature, you promised us that you would tell us how Lillian Mosquito projects her voice!  You promised that you would tell us how Lillian Mosquito projects her voice!”

“So I did!  So I did!” said Mother Nature, laying down an oak, the leaves of which she was tipping with scarlet for the fall trade.  “And so I will!  So I will!”

At which Waldo Lizard, Edna Elephant and Lawrence Walrus jumped with imitation joy, for they had hoped to have an afternoon off.

Mother Nature led them across the fields to the piazza of a clubhouse on which there was an exposed ankle belonging to one of the members.  There, as she had expected, they found Lillian Mosquito having tea.

“Lillian,” called Mother Nature, “come off a minute.  I have some little friends here who would like to know how it is that you manage to hum in such a manner as to give the impression of being just outside the ear of a person in bed, when actually you are across the room.”

“Will you kindly repeat the question?” said Lillian flying over to the railing.

“We want to know,” said Mother Nature, “how it is that very often, when you have been fairly caught, it turns out that you have escaped without injury.”

“I would prefer to answer the question as it was first put,” said Lillian.

So Waldo Lizard, Edna Elephant and Lawrence Walrus, seeing that there was no way out, cried: 

“Yes, yes, Lillian, do tell us.”

“First of all, you must know,” began Lillian Mosquito, “that my chief duty is to annoy.  Whatever else I do, however many bites I total in the course of the evening, I do not consider that I have ‘made good’ unless I have caused a great deal of annoyance while doing it.  A bite, quietly executed and not discovered by the victim until morning, does me no good.  It is my duty, and my pleasure, to play with him before biting, as you have often heard a cat plays with a mouse, tormenting him with apprehension and making him struggle to defend himself....  If I am using too long words for you, please stop me.”