The Woggle-Bug Book | Page 4

a second-hand dealer and sold it for three dollars in
cash.
Scarcely had she left the shop when a lady of Swedish extraction--a
widow with four small children in her train--entered and asked to look
at a gown. The dealer showed her the one he had just bought from
Bridget, and its gay coloring so pleased the widow that she
immediately purchased it for $3.65.
"Ay tank ets a good deal money, by sure," she said to herself; "but das
leedle children mus' have new fadder to mak mind un tak care dere
mudder like, by yimminy! An' Ay tank no man look may way in das
ole dress I been wearing."
She took the gown and the four children to her home, where she lost no
time in trying on the costume, which fitted her as perfectly as a
flour-sack does a peck of potatoes.
"Das beau--tiful!" she exclaimed, in rapture, as she tried to see herself
in a cracked mirror. "Ay go das very afternoon to valk in da park, for
das man-folks go crazy-like ven he sees may fine frocks!"

Then she took her green parasol and a hand-bag stuffed with papers (to
make it look prosperous and aristocratic) and sallied forth to the park,
followed by all her interesting flock.
The men didn't fail to look at her, as you may guess; but none looked
with yearning until the Woggle-Bug, sauntering gloomily along a path,
happened to raise his eyes and see before him his heart's delight the
very identical Wagnerian plaids which had filled him with such
unbounded affection.
"Aha, my excruciatingly lovely creation!" he cried, running up and
kneeling before the widow; "I have found you once again. Do not, I beg
of you, treat me with coldness!"
For he had learned from experience not to unduly startle his charmer at
their first moment of meeting; so he made a firm attempt to control
himself, that the wearer of the checked gown might not scorn him.
The widow had no great affection for bugs, having wrestled with the
species for many years; but this one was such a big-bug and so
handsomely dressed that she saw no harm in encouraging
him--especially as the men she had sought to captivate were proving
exceedingly shy.
"So you tank Ay I ban loavely?" she asked, with a coy glance at the
Insect.
"I do! With all my heart I do!" protested the Woggle-Bug, placing all
four hands, one after another, over that beating organ.
"Das mak plenty trouble by you. I don'd could be yours!" sighed the
widow, indeed regretting her admirer was not an ordinary man.
"Why not?" asked the Woggle-Bug. "I have still the seven ninety-three;
and as that was the original price, and you are now slightly worn and
second-handed, I do not see why I need despair of calling you my
own."

It is very queer, when we think of it, that the Woggle-Bug could not
separate the wearer of his lovely gown from the gown itself. Indeed, he
always made love directly to the costume that had so enchanted him,
without any regard whatsoever to the person inside it; and the only way
we can explain this remarkable fact is to recollect that the Woggle-Bug
was only a woggle-bug, and nothing more could be expected of him.
The widow did not, of course, understand his speech in the least; but
she gathered the fact that the Woggle-Bug had id money, so she sighed
and hinted that she was very hungry, and that there was a good
short-order restaurant just outside the park.
The Woggle-Bug became thoughtful at this. He hated to squander his
money, which he had come to regard a sort of purchase price with
which to secure his divinity. But neither could he allow those darling
checks to go hungry; so he said:
"If you will come with me to the restaurant, I will gladly supply you
with food."
The widow accepted the invitation at once, and the Woggle-Bug
walked proudly beside her, leading all of the four children at once with
his four hands.
Two such gay costumes as those worn by the widow and the
Woggle-Bug are seldom found together, and the restaurant man was so
impressed by the sight that he demanded his money in advance.
The four children, jabbering delightedly in their broken English,
clambered upon four stools, and the widow sat upon another. And the
Woggle-Bug, who was not hungry (being engaged in feasting his eyes
upon the checks), laid down a silver dollar as a guarantee of good faith.
It was wonderful to see so much pie and cake and bread-and-butter and
pickles and dough-nuts and sandwiches disappear into the mouths of
the four innocents and their comparatively innocent mother. The
Woggle-Bug had to add another