Miz Cricket wants to help her friend.

Source : http://www.highlightskids.com/Stories/Fiction/F0696_missingSpectacles.asp...


What would Mr. Fuddle say now?“Oh my!” said Mr. Fuddle. “I can’t find my spectacles.” He groped about the room, looking for them. “Finders, keepers; losers, weepers,” he added sadly.


Miz Cricket gave a little leap. Mr. Fuddle was her friend. She always listened to what he had to say. She knew that he wouldn’t be able to read without his spectacles, and he loved to read.


She watched as Mr. Fuddle crawled about on his hands and knees. He peered into the potted fern. He peered under the umbrella stand.


“Two heads are better than one,” she thought. That was what Mr. Fuddle would say. She leaped behind him, helping him look for the missing spectacles.


The postman knocked at the door.


“Ah,” said Mr. Fuddle, getting to his feet. “Perhaps he found my spectacles.”


But the postman had nothing but mail for Mr. Fuddle.


“Oh my, without my spectacles, how am I to read it?” said Mr. Fuddle. He tossed the letters onto the hall table. “Well, no news is good news,” he said, and Miz Cricket nodded.


Mr. Fuddle continued searching for his spectacles. He peered behind the coal scuttle. He peered around the fireplace screen. Miz Cricket was just a leap behind him.


Then a neighbor, Mrs. McGillicuddy, knocked at the back door. “Yoo-hoo,” she called. “I have something for you.”


“Oh good, perhaps she found my spectacles,” said Mr. Fuddle.


But his neighbor had brought a plate of crumpets, his favorite treat. Mr. Fuddle invited her to share them with him, along with tea and honey. Miz Cricket sat beneath the kitchen table, waiting for the crumbs she knew he would save for her.


Just then there was a commotion at the door. It was Mrs. McGillicuddy’s young son, Jeremiah. He wanted to come in.


“Perhaps he found my spectacles,” said Mr. Fuddle.


But as soon as Mr. Fuddle let him in, Jeremiah spied Miz Cricket.


“A cricket!” he cried, scrambling under the table after her.


Miz Cricket and Mr. Fuddle shared crumpets and tea at the kitchen table.Miz Cricket leaped, just barely escaping him. “A miss is as good as a mile, as Mr. Fuddle would say,” she said, panting.


But “Oh my!” is what Mr. Fuddle said as he followed Jeremiah.


And “Oh thumpnoodle!” is what Mrs. McGillicuddy said as she followed Mr. Fuddle.


Miz Cricket leaped. Jeremiah jumped. Around the room they all went, leaping and jumping. Then Miz Cricket gave one last mighty leap and slid down between the cushions on Mr. Fuddle’s chair.


“Enough!” said Mrs. McGillicuddy, and she marched young Jeremiah out the door.


Miz Cricket felt something hard and smooth beneath her feet.


“It’s safe to come out now,” said Mr. Fuddle.


But Miz Cricket waited.


“Where are you?” he asked as he reached between the cushions.


“Oh my!” he said. He pulled out his spectacles, with Miz Cricket clinging to them.


He put them on. Miz Cricket gave a happy leap.


“You solved the mystery,” said Mr. Fuddle. “You found my missing spectacles. One good turn deserves another, they say.”


And Miz Cricket and Mr. Fuddle shared crumpets and tea at the kitchen table.