Chapter I - An independent life since early childhood; a prank that costed dearly (Part 4)

The egret, the heron, and the pelican
All are fat enough, so Which one Should I pluck, sir?
Pluck the cormorant for me, my boy!
I'll have it cooked, broiled, fried, and eat the whole thing up!


This gave the cormorant a start! Opening her eyes wide
e strutted in the direction of my song, calling out in an angry voice, ’Who is singing this insolent song about me? Who?”

I quickly backed down to the bottom of my hole, saying to myself, "So you’re angry, eh? You won’t get me, even if you break your silly head knocking it against my door.”

The cormorant didn’t get me, as a matter of fact. But she caught sight of Choat in his shallow hole. I heard her shout angrily, ’What did you just say about me?”

"I said nothing, Big Sister,” Choat timidly replied and backed down into his shallow hole as far as he could go.

"How dare you deny it? How dare you?”


A heavy stroke of the cormorant’s giant bill accompanied each word of her rebuke. Her bill was like an iron drill that broke through the ground and landed heavily on Choat. The only thing I could hear was Choat’s pained whine. I lay very still in the bottom of my hole, too frightened to move. Having
relieved her anger, the cormorant flew away to look for fish.

After a while, I carefully crept up to Choat's hole. When he saw me, my poor neighbour cried out bitterly and I ask stupidly, “What? What happened?"

But Choat could no longer stand on his legs. He was lying on the ground, half-dead. I hastily knelt down and took his head in my hands and spoke softly, "How could I know things would happen this way? Brother, my heart is filled With bitter remorse. My silly bragging is the cause of this tragedy. What can I do now?”

I was surprised by the advice he gave me. "Being in poor health,” he murmured, “I would not have lived long anyway. So I am not really sad at having to die now. But before leaving this world, I would like to give you some advice: Don’t be such a foolish braggart. Your aggression and arrogance will bring bad luck to you someday.”


Choat breathed his last. My heart was filled with pity and remorse. Had it not been for the stupid joke I played on the cormorant, Choat would not have died. And I myself had a close shave, too. Far from
being the smart fellow I thought I was, I had been a fool. My heart was filled with remorse.

I buried Choat on a grassy plot of land, heaping earth on his grave. I stood there silently for a long time, absorbing this first hard lesson of my life.

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Chapter I - An independent life since early childhood; a prank that costed dearly (Part 3)

One afternoon a few days later, I stood at my doorstep. It had rained hard several days before, so the local ponds and lakes were all overflowing and stocked with plenty of fish, crabs and shrimps. As a result, cranes, herons, cormorants, teals, coots, wild ducks, pelicans and even parrots from faraway lands had all come to partake of the abundant food. All day long, they quarreled noisily, disputing every tiny shrimp. I could see many skinny egrets, who struggled all day long in the pond but could never get enough to eat. Such is the fate of the weak! I stood watching the setting sun, philosophizing
seriously over the facts of life.


Just then I noticed a cormorant alighting a few steps from where I stood and a wicked idea came into my mind. I called over to  neighbor Choat: "Would you like to have some fun?”

"How so? I’m having an asthma attack at the moment.”

"Just to play a joke on somebody.”

"On who?”

"The big cormorant over there.”

Choat came to his door to take a look and asked: "You mean that big fat female standing a few steps from our doors?”

"Precisely. ”

"My god, no! I can’t afford that. And I would advise you not to either...”


"lVIe! Not to? What are you talking about? I fear nobody, Mister Coward.” I glared at him.

"Then, do it alone, please. I humbly confess that I’m afraid.”

"You weakling! Look, I’m going to play a good joke on her.”

I waited for a favourable moment and then started to sing:


Chapter I - An independent life since early childhood; a prank that costed dearly (Part 2)

Whenever I started shouting, my neighbors would remain silent; probably not so much because they were afraid to answer back, but because they were of a peaceable disposition. Clearly, I had grown too big for my britches. Young people are often like that: bragging is for them a sign of talent! When I bullied some timid grasshoppers or a water spider who had strayed from his native pond, I believed myself a real hero.


Alas, I didn’t know that one would have to pay dearly for such foolish bluster. Unconsciously, I
was doing myself a serious disservice. Later, I would many time narrowly escape death. My heart would then be filled with remorse. But remorse was not of much help in setting things right again. This was how the first mishap came about:

Near my place lived a small cricket about my age, whom I named Choat (which means tiny). He was born very weak, so I rather looked down on him. And he was truly afraid of me! Thin and pale like an opium-addict, he had ridiculously short wings that made him look as though a waistcoat was his
only clothing. His hind-legs were thick and utterly inelegant. In addition to all that, he had ludicrous stumps in place of antennae and the dazed look of a hopeless country bumpkin! Because of his poor health, he was not the sort of fellow who could undertake serious projects: his hole was shallow and
had no emergency exits like mine.

One day I paid him a Visit. After having a look at his shabby home, I reproached him: "What a careless and slovenly way of living! What a home to live in! Suppose an enemy comes, you will have nowhere to escape! Look, every time you move in your hole, your back will show up through the
ceiling. Anyone standing nearby can tell where you are. What if a falcon mistakes you for prey? My poor chap, you are no longer a child, yet you lack the wisdom of maturity!”

Choat answered in a sad voice, ”Big Brother, I surely want to be like you, but I can’t. I am too weak for even the simplest kind of work, so how can I build myself a decent home? I know it is dangerous to live in such a shallow hole, but I don’t have the strength to improve it. I have been thinking hard
about this but still I don’t know what to do, except for one possibility... But, I dare not speak of it to you...”

I said, "Just tell me what is on your mind. You may speak freely.”


The mole-cricket answered timidly, ”Big Brother, as you have deigned to take pity on me, I think you wouldn’t mind helping me dig a gallery linking my hole to yours. I can thus escape to your place in case of danger...”

Baring my teeth I snarled in a condescending way, ”What! A gallery linking my place to yours? How could I stand it? You smell as bad as an owl. Now, stop it! It’s no use whimpering. It serves you right
for being such a lazy fellow.” I went back to my place and paid no more attention to my unfortunate
neighbour.

Chapter I - An independent life since early childhood; a prank that costed dearly (Part 1)

I have lived an independent life since early childhood. Such is the rule among us
crickets. My mother used to tell her children, "It’s good for you to learn to fly with your own wings. Children who are a burden to their parents develop selfish habits and grow up into ne’er-do-wells.”
Following these strict principles, my mother made sure her children would live on their own soon
after they were born.


My two brothers and I, for instance, lived with her for only two days. On the third day, my mother took each of us to a hole she had dug in the corner of a rice field. As the youngest of the brood, I was provided with a small reserve of food. But that was all: my mother didn’t turn back once.

Far from bewailing the situation, I rather enjoyed it. After thoroughly exploring my new premises, I stood at the door, looking at the blue sky above the tall blades of grass. Feeling elated, I rubbed my wings together and uttered a few loud and enthusiastic chirps.

From that day on, I started life on my own. My personal happiness would depend on whether I would be wise or stupid. But I didn’t think of that at the time. I merely enjoyed my independence.

All day long, I worked in my hole, enlarging and embe-llishing it into a nice bed—room. Then I dug additional short-cuts and back-doors for emergencies. When dusk fell, I would stop for a rest. Together with the whole neighbourhood, I would start a joyful concert in honour of the setting sun.

During the whole night, we would hold merry dancing and singing parties, stopping from time to time to drink dew drops or nibble at juicy blades of young grass. Only when the austere-looking sun appeared again in the East did we part to go back home. Such was the joyful routine of my life. A quite pleasant one, wasn’t it?

As I lived soberly and worked moderately, I grew up rapidly and in no time became a healthy and strong adolescent. My hind legs shone with a dark lustre. The spikes on my legs were spear-pointed. To try their effectiveness, I would sometimes raise my legs and give powerful kicks at the grass Whose blades would then fall down like at the stroke of a scythe. My wings extended to the tip of my tail. When I flapped them, they produced a powerful sound. My head grew bigger and bigger and pugnacious-looking bumps started bulging out on my forehead. My two black mandibles were
always moving crosswise, like the blades of a mowing machine. I was particularly proud of my two long and martial-looking antennae, which I continuously caressed with my forelegs. My whole body was of a glossy brown.

I adopted a stately gait. When I walked, 1 solemnly swayed on my legs, my two antennae shaking in a bellicose manner. I put on daring airs and was quick to pick quarrels with my
neighbours.

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Diary of a Cricket

Diary of a Cricket is a novel by To Hoai. It was first publish in 1941. Over the course of half a century, the work has been reprinted many times, delighting many generations of readers.

It is a story of a cricket who, together with his friends, travels throughout the world.On their journey,
the group meets many dangers and hardships, but their difficulties only deepen their feelings of brotherhood.
Along the way, the travelers meet new friends Who share the same sense of purpose and a strong belief in a better future.
Readers of the story will gain insight in to characters’ love of nature and country. The author wants to share with the readers a childhood world in which the beauties of his native land (a river, a lawn, a forest or a white cloud in the blue sky, etc.) are encountered and become unforgettable memories.

Diary of a Cricket has been translated into many languages and published in numerous countries. In
Vietnam, its successful English version ( translated by Dang The Binh) has been reprinted several times. To help English-speaking readers to better understand the story, the original translator tried to make the story clearer by enriching it with more details. So, in this English book, readers Will find many differences from the original version.

Author: To Hoai
Illustrator: Ta Huy Long
English Translator: Dang The Binh