Little Sunny Stories/Mrs. Goodluck Cricket

Mrs. Goodluck Cricket

Everybody loved little Anne, for she was such a good, kind little girl. When Anne’s Mamma was ill and could not do her sewing, little Anne went to work so that she could give the pennies she earned to her Mamma to buy food for the house.

“Don’t you worry, Mumsey dear,” said Anne, when she went to work at Mrs. Gray's bakeshop, “I am getting big and strong and I will work hard for you.”

At first Anne’s little arms ached very much, for she had to sweep and clean up the bakery and the store each morning, but she soon grew accustomed to the hard work and sang as she swept. One morning as Anne swept in front of the big ovens she heard a creaky noise, like some one rocking a chair over a creaky board.

Anne peeped into Mrs. Gray's parlor. No, there was no one there.

“Can you hear someone rocking in a creaky rocking chair?” Anne asked the baker, who was pulling the golden brown loaves from the ovens.

“I guess you hear the pipe squeaking in the wind on top of the chimney!” said the baker. “You’d best be getting your sweeping done before Mrs. Gray comes or you will be hunting another job!”

Anne picked up her broom and began sweeping again, when “Creakity-Creak, Creakity-Creak,” came the noise again, only this time it was under her feet.

Anne stooped down, and there, right in front of the oven door where it was nice and warm, sat a tiny little old woman all dressed in black, rocking back and forth in a weeny little rocking chair and singing merrily.

Every time her chair moved Anne could hear the “Creakity-Creak.”

“Hello, Anne!” cried the little old woman.

Anne dropped her broom and got down upon her knees the better to hear the little old woman, for her voice was as tiny as she was herself.

“I am Mrs. Cricket,” said the little old woman, “Please don’t sweep me away!”

“Mrs. Cricket!” Anne cried in wonderment. “why I did not know that crickets could talk so that anyone could understand them!”

“Most folks can’t understand them!” chirped the little old woman cricket. “It’s only the kindly little children who have been touched with a fairy’s magic wand who can hear and understand every word we say. You are good and kind and the Fairy Queen has given you the power to understand fairy language!”

“Oh, that pleases me!” cried Anne, clapping her hands! “But tell me, Mrs. Cricket, why do you sit there rocking and singing all the time?” For Mrs. Cricket had not once stopped rocking her squeaky rocking chair.

“With every squeak I wish good luck to the family with whom I live!” said Mrs. Cricket.

“What’s this?” asked Mrs. Gray, as she came into the room.

“It’s Mrs. Cricket!” laughed Anne, as she jumped from the floor.

“A cricket!” exclaimed Mrs. Gray, drawing her skirts close to her. “Sweep it out! I do not care to have the creepy things in my place!”

“Yes, Mrs. Gray,” said Anne, ‘‘But this is not an ordinary everyday cricket, this one told me she wishes good luck to—”

“You talk queerly this morning, child!” Mrs. Gray said. “Crickets cannot talk! Pooh! Sweep every one you find out of my place!” and with this, Mrs. Gray hurried into the store.

“Creakity-Creak!” sounded the little rocking chair and Anne reached down and picked up Mrs. Cricket, chair and all.

“Please do not sweep me out into the cold, Anne,” begged Mrs. Cricket. “I would soon freeze. Let me live here by the nice warm oven!”

“Never fear, I will not sweep you out!” Anne promised, “I'll take you home with me and you can sing all day to my Mamma. It will help her to get well, I am sure!” and she put the little old woman cricket into her apron pocket just as Mrs. Gray called her into the store.

Mrs. Cricket was very happy now so she began singing again.

“Is that a cricket I hear singing?’’ asked a kindly old gentleman.

“Yes, it's Mrs. Cricket!” replied Anne as she drew the little creature from her pocket and told of what she had heard Mrs. Cricket say. “I'm going to take Mrs. Cricket home with me!”

“Well, now, that’s fine!”’ said the kindly old gentleman, “for they say a cricket on the hearth brings good luck to the household. I never knew that folks could understand cricket language though!” he laughed as he passed out of the store.

“Will you take that cricket and throw it outdoors?” Mrs. Gray demanded when the door had closed on the old gentleman.

“I am going to take it home with me, Mrs. Gray!” Anne said.

“I won’t have the squeaky thing about the place now, that’s all!” shouted Mrs. Gray, losing her temper, “You get on your hat and run home. I won’t have you about the place either.”

Neither Anne nor Mrs. Gray noticed that the old gentleman had returned to the store until Anne had gone for her hat.

Then Mrs. Gray, seeing the old gentleman and feeling ashamed that he had heard her display of temper, said, “The child is foolish about that cricket! Her mother is sick and they have hardly enough to eat in the house, yet she will hold on to that sqeaky little bug rather than keep her job here at the store!”

The kindly old gentleman saw that Anne’s lip quivered as she left the store and that she restrained her tears with difficulty, and he also saw that one little fist was tightly held in the apron pocket so that the cricket would not get cold or be lost on the way home.

The kindly old gentleman's eyes twinkled mischievously as he watched Anne run down the street, then he turned and asked Mrs. Gray a few questions.

When Anne reached home she stirred up the fire and placed Mrs. Cricket and her rocking chair upon the hearth, then she told Mamma all.

Mamma did not say anything for awhile, then when she heard Mrs. Cricket squeaking her rocking chair and singing, she said, “You did quite right, my dear. We will get much pleasure from Mrs. Cricket's songs this winter; and they say a cricket brings good luck!”

The next day there came a knock at the door and Anne was surprised to see the kindly old gentleman and a sweet-faced old lady. They had brought large baskets of food and goodies for Mamma and Anne. And they came every day until Mamma grew strong and well again.

And Mrs. Cricket always sang happily when the two old kindly people were there.

“You dear old Mrs. Cricket!” laughed Anne one day, when the cricket was rocking back and forth in front of the fire and singing a cheery song, “you need not tire yourself out!”

“With every squeak of my rickety rocker, I wish good luck to all of you!” replied Mrs. Cricket. “And one never tires of wishing luck and happiness to those who are good and kind!”

And, with this, Mrs. Cricket again commenced rocking so fast the little tiny rocking chair cried, “Squeak-it-eak-it-eak-ity!”

Good luck comes to those who bring The sunshine where they go. So laugh and work and play and sing And you'll have luck, I know.