Once there was a Snooping Bug that lived in a glass jar on a shelf in the cottage of a Fairy Godmother. Now fairy godmothers are always nice, but this Fairy Godmother was very nice, and the reason she kept the Snooping Bug a prisoner in a jar on her shelf was because she was afraid he would go about and get folks into trouble. And another thing that showed she was unusually nice was that every week-end she always invited a little prince or princess to be her guest. And this story opens just as Prince Pranc, the only son of the king of a nearby city, had arrived to spend several days with his Fairy Godmother.
"Now, Pranc," said the Fairy Godmother, "I want you to have the happiest kind of a time, and you'll have it without doubt if you don't get into mischief."
"Oh, that's all right," replied the Prince, as he watched the Fairy Godmother unpack his trunk, "if I get into mischief you just send me home again."
"Yes," said the Fairy Godmother, "but suppose you are not here to send home again; suppose you have disappeared. Don't forget this is an enchanted house and that strange things can happen in an enchanted house."
"Phew!" said Pranc, "I almost wish I hadn't come."
"Not at all," replied the Fairy Godmother, "there is nothing to be alarmed about. You could sit on a keg of gunpowder and be perfectly safe if you didn't explode the powder. But in case you should get into trouble, put this ring on your finger and turn it around and around when danger threatens."
"Oh, thank you," said the Prince, slipping on the ring. "I don't feel so worried now."
Then the Fairy Godmother took him all over the cottage and showed him the wonderful belongings she had, and last of all she took him into her study and there Pranc saw the Snooping Bug in his jar on the shelf.
"What's that?" he asked.
And the Fairy Godmother told him it was a Snooping Bug. "And this one," she continued, pointing to another jar on the shelf, "has a Sulking Bug in it; and this one—next to it, is a Crying Bug. If they got out of the jars they'd bite you, and you'd start in to snoop, or sulk, or cry."
"Whoever heard of such a thing," said the Prince. "It can't be."
"It can't, eh," said the Fairy Godmother. "Just put your finger on the top of this bottle when I take the cork out."
And with that she took the magic stopper out of the Crying Bug bottle and Pranc stuck his finger in. And then—ping—the next moment something bit it, and the next moment he burst out crying, boo-hoo—boo-hoo, as loud as he could. And as he was a boy who hardly ever cried, he felt awfully ashamed of himself.
"Oh, dear," he sobbed, "I hate to cry this way, but—but—"
"Don't worry," said the Fairy Godmother, as she corked the bottle again, "he only gave you a little bite. You'll be over it in a minute."
And presently the tears stopped rolling down Pranc's cheeks and he was all right once more.
"My goodness," he said, as he wiped his eyes, "I wouldn't like that to happen again."
"Then," said the Fairy Godmother, "see that you keep hands off these bottles. As long as the bugs stay in the bottles everything will be all right, but if they once get out they'll bite every girl and boy they find. That is why I keep them prisoners. I don't care for snooping, sulking or crying children, nor does any one else."
Then she told Pranc that she would have to leave him for awhile. "I have been invited to the christening of a princess," she said.
So she put on her gossamer cloak and her diamond studded bonnet, kissed her hand to Pranc and went off to the christening. But so interested was Pranc in the bugs on the shelf he hardly noticed her going, for the Sulking Bug looked so mad it almost startled him, and the Crying Bug had cried so much his bottle was half full of tears and he looked almost as mad as the Sulking Bug. But when it came to the Snooping Bug, it was a very different affair altogether, for the Snooping Bug, although he had a sly sort of expression in his big, pop eyes, was real jolly looking as he slowly scratched his shoulder blade with his hind leg. And when he saw the Prince looking at him, he winked one eye and then turned a couple of somersaults, which made the Prince laugh like anything.
"Gee whiz," he exclaimed, "I like this bug."
And in order to get a better look at the creature he reached the jar down from the shelf and carried it over to the window, or at least he started to, but before he got there he stumbled—bing—the jar slipped from his hands, fell to the floor with a crash and broke into a thousand pieces, leaving the Snooping Bug kicking in the midst of the fragments.
The jar broke into a thousand pieces
"Oh," cried the Prince, "I must get something to put him in or he'll get away."
"Nonsense," remarked the Snooping Bug. "I'm not going away. You couldn't drive me away. I'm going to stay with you. But do get me out of this mess, please."
So Pranc, not suspecting anything, stooped to pick the Snooping Bug up and then as he did so—zip, the Bug bit his finger and in about eight seconds he changed from a first class little boy who always minded his own business and did not pry into things, into a sly, snooping fellow peering into corners, and closets, and everything. And as he changed, the Snooping Bug changed also. It swelled, and swelled, and swelled until it was half as big as Pranc. After which it chuckled, wiggling the two long, wavy horns that grew over its eyebrows, and took the Prince by the hand.
"Come on," it said, "let's start. My, but it feels good to get out of that jar."
"Start," said Pranc, "start where?"
"Why, to headquarters," replied the Snooping Bug, "where you can snoop all you want."
So off they went to the Fairy Godmother's preserve closet. "Open the door," said the Snooping Bug. And when the Prince had done so the Snooping Bug pushed Pranc inside and then followed, shutting the door after him.
"My, but it's dark," exclaimed the Prince. "What are we going to do now?"
"Just you wait," said the Snooping Bug. Then he called out: "Going down!" And all of a sudden a brilliantly lighted elevator came down right in front of them, the door slid open, Pranc and the Snooping Bug stepped inside, and then, ker-zip, ker-zip, ker-zip, the elevator began to drop, and drop, and drop, with the most awful dips.
Goodness, how they did drop. The Prince thought they must have dropped about nine hundred miles when at last the elevator stopped after giving a terrible bounce or two, and the Snooping Bug shouted: "Here we are!"
Pranc wondered where "here we are" was as he looked up and down the street in which he presently found himself standing, and was about to ask the Snooping Bug, when all of a sudden somebody bumped into him and he turned to see a tall, slim fellow in a pink uniform with his hands full of letters which he had been reading as he walked along. Over one shoulder hung a leather bag which was crammed with other letters still in their envelopes, and on his head was a cap with a tassel and on the front of the cap it said "postman."
"What do you mean," cried the stranger, sternly, "by interfering with the mails? Can't you see I'm on government duty?"
"Oh, excuse me," said Pranc, "I didn't mean to bump you, and I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't been reading those letters as you walked along."
"Indeed," said the postman, "well if I didn't read some of the letters as I walked about delivering them I don't know what I would do. I can't read all of 'em at night, you know."
"But," said the Prince, "they are not your letters, are they?"
"Of course not," said the postman, testily, "who would write me all this lot of letters? They belong to the different citizens of Snoopania."
"Oh," said the Prince, "you don't read other people's letters, I hope."
"Well," retorted the postman, opening his eyes very wide, "I should hope I did. If I didn't I'd lose my job. Every letter must be torn open and read, and every postal card must not only be read but committed to memory. I could shut my eyes right now and tell you what I've read on a million postal cards only I haven't the time. This is the way of it, you see:
A postman's life is a busy one,
His working hours are never done,
For all of the letters the public writes
He has to read at home at nights;
And all of the postals, yes, sir-ee,
He has to commit to memoree.
And so if you think I'm cross a bit
You'll know my job is the cause of it.
As he finished he suddenly noticed the Snooping Bug. "For mercy's sake," he exclaimed, "when did you get back? I thought the Fairy Godmother had you bottled up."
"She did," said the Snooping Bug, "but thanks to this noble boy I'm out again. Where can I find the First Lord of the Keyhole? I want to make arrangements for parliament to reward my rescuer."
"Well," said the postman, "I think he's at his office right now, if you hurry."
So, after bidding the postman good-by, the Snooping Bug hurried Pranc off to the office of the First Lord of the Keyhole.
Soon they reached Parliament House where the First Lord of the Keyhole had his office, but when they tried to open the office door it seemed to stick. So Pranc gave it a push, and then a harder one, and all at once it opened wide and the Prince and the Snooping Bug staggering into the room saw in the middle of the floor a white-haired old gentleman lying on his back.
"Shut the door," commanded the old gentleman, scrambling to his feet. "Now," he said, glaring at Pranc as he smoothed his clothing, "I suppose you know what you've done."
"No," said the Prince, "what have I done?" He looked at the old gentleman and then at the Snooping Bug. The old gentleman was very red in the face and the Snooping Bug seemed to be dreadfully worried. He took Pranc into a corner and whispered in his ear.
"Don't be frightened," he said, rather hoarsely, "but you upset a peer of the realm when you opened the door. He was peering through the keyhole at you before he said 'Come in,' and you should have peered through the keyhole at him before you did come in. I don't know whether I can get you off or not. I ought to have warned you."
"You certainly ought," said the Prince. "How was I to know he was at the keyhole? It seems a very queer thing for an old gentleman like that to do."
"Not at all," put in the old gentleman. "Ain't I the First Lord of the Keyhole and head of the House of Peers? And don't all the Peers of Snoopania peer through keyholes? Eh?"
"I don't know," said Pranc.
"Well, they do," continued the old gentleman, "the same as the members of the House of Commons listen at keyholes. Where have you been all your life, anyway?"
And then the Prince told him where his home was and how the Snooping Bug had brought him to Snoopania. "But," he added, "I think I'd like to go back, if you don't mind."
"Oh, come now," put in the Snooping Bug, "you've only just arrived." He turned to the First Lord of the Keyhole. "I think he's worried for fear you're going to have him punished for knocking you over. Are you?"
"Certainly," snapped the First Lord of the Keyhole. "The dignity of the peerage must be maintained."
"Well, I don't think it's fair," said the Snooping Bug, hotly.
"Of course it isn't fair," retorted the old gentleman. "We never do anything fair in Snoopania. You know that. If we did we wouldn't snoop, would we?"
Then he clapped his hands and six very jolly looking gentlemen entered in a single file. "This is the Committee on Extermination," said the First Lord of the Keyhole, turning to the Prince. "The Chairman will arrange the details of your execution."
"With pleasure," said the Chairman of the Exterminating Committee, who was the jolliest looking man of them all. Then he patted Pranc on the head and asked in a kindly tone when he would like to have his head cut off.
"What!" exclaimed the Prince, with a startled expression.
"When," repeated the Chairman, "would you like your head cut off?"
"Never," shouted Pranc, as loud as he could.
"Never," repeated the Chairman of the Exterminating Committee, looking rather pained. "Oh, but I say that won't do at all. You must fix a time. We can't cut your head off unless you do. It wouldn't be legal."
"Indeed," said Pranc, with a sigh of relief. "Well, I'm very glad to hear it."
And though every member of the Committee on Extermination argued with him, and the First Lord of the Keyhole shook his fist at him and sputtered like a fire-cracker, he simply would not say when he would like his head cut off.
"Well," said the First Lord of the Keyhole to the Chairman of the Exterminating Committee, "we'll have to appeal to the King about the matter. This boy doesn't know what he wants."
"Oh, yes, he does," said the Snooping Bug.
"He does not," thundered the First Lord of the Keyhole.
"He does, too," retorted the Snooping Bug, "and if you see the King, we'll see him, too."
So everybody started off for the palace and never stopped until they stood outside the monarch's sitting-room. "Wait a moment," said the Chairman of the Exterminating Committee, "until I see whether he is busy." Whereupon he put his eye to the keyhole. "Yes," he said, straightening up again, "he is quite busy snooping under his bathroom door."
"But," said Pranc, "what's the use of that?"
"What's the use of anything?" snapped the First Lord of the Keyhole. "Practice makes perfect, and the more you snoop the better you can do it. The King of Snoopania does not believe in wasting his time, sir."
And sure enough the monarch did not, for when they opened the door and went in, he had his head in the fireplace.
"Oh, how do you do," he said, pulling it out again.
"Are you very much engaged?" inquired the Chairman of the Exterminating Committee.
"Well," said the King, "I only just got through with the bathroom and I did want to finish the chimney this morning, sure, but it doesn't matter. What is it?"
"This boy," said the Chairman of the Exterminating Committee, "is to have his head cut off but he won't say when. He doesn't know what he wants, so we'd like to know if you know."
"Of course he doesn't know," put in Pranc, impatiently. "I'm the only one who knows. And besides what is the use of asking a king who spends his time peeking up chimneys? I never heard of a king doing such a thing."
Well, if the Prince had walked up to the monarch and boxed his ears he could not have astonished him or the rest of the party more. For a moment no one said anything, they just looked at each other in horror, and then the King turned red, white and blue in the face with rage.
"You—you—you—" he bawled, glaring at Pranc, "you're an imitation snooper. You don't know the first principles of snooping. What are you doing in Snoopania anyway?" Then he yelled for his soldiers to come and cut the Prince's head off at once—at once. He repeated it twice so they would not misunderstand.
But the Prince did not wait to see whether they understood or not, no sir-ee. He was thoroughly disgusted with snooping, snoopers and Snoopania, and determined to get back to his Fairy Godmother's cottage at once if it could possibly be done. So when the King's soldiers entered the room to seize him he waited until they came very near, and then he twisted the ring the Fairy Godmother had given him, and bing—flat on their backs the soldiers fell, bumping their heads like anything.
"Good-by," cried Pranc, waving his hand to the Snooping Bug, "I'm going home."
"Wait," shouted the Snooping Bug, "I'll go with you."
"No," replied the Prince, "I've had quite enough of snoopers and snooping bugs. You stay where you are."
Then he jumped over the prostrate soldiers and out the door of the palace. Up the street he ran until he met the postman. "Where's the elevator?" he panted.
"Straight ahead," replied the postman, "but if you'll wait a moment I'll tell you what was on some of those postal cards I spoke about."
"I can't," said Pranc, "the King's soldiers are after me. I'd like to, but—"
"Yah!" With a shout a whole regiment of the King's soldiers rushed around the corner and made a grab at him, but quick as a wink Pranc twisted the Fairy Godmother's ring once more, and bing—over went the soldiers on their backs and hit their heads bang, and by the time they were able to sit up and rub the bumps, the Prince had reached the elevator. "Up," he shouted, and up the elevator went with a leap, and a moment later stopped inside the preserve closet.
"My!" said Pranc, as he opened the closet door and stood once more in the Fairy Godmother's cottage, "my, but I'm glad to be back."
Then he went out on the front porch where the Fairy Godmother was sitting in a rocking chair knitting, and told her all that had happened to him.
"I'm not surprised," said the Fairy Godmother. "When I got back from the christening and found that the Snooping Bug had disappeared and you also, I knew you had done something you should not have, and that you were probably having a time of it."
"Yes," said the Prince, "and if it had not been for your ring I would have had a worse time. I'm awfully sorry I lost your Snooping Bug."
"Oh, that's all right," said the Fairy Godmother. "Any time you'd like to borrow my Crying Bug or my Sulking Bug, just help yourself."
"No-thank-you," replied Prince. "NO-thank-you! No more bugs for me.”
