If you listen carefully you can hear the noise of the carts being pulled over the earth, driven by the little people pulled by an earwig or a woodlouse, for payment of course. It was market day beneath the leaves and the stallholders were ready for their customers.
Suddenly there was a distraught cry “Dewey where are you” and one of the small people with long blond hair and blue eyes started to search.
“Lost your boy love, don’t worry I will help you to find him” said a rather stout motherly looking small person.
Suddenly one of the stallholders called “I have found him” and Dewey was happily drinking a cup of nectar at the stall.
Dewey’s mother was so relieved and thanked the stallholder.
“That will be 4 dandelion seeds”.
“I beg your pardon.”
“Your son has drunk four cups of nectar and that is not free. My husband was up early this morning collecting that nectar and that is hard work.”
Dewey’s mother was annoyed to say the least and her blond hair coloured red at the tips in annoyance. Little people tend to show their feelings in colours. She put the dandelion seeds on the counter top and at that moment a bee flew past scattering the seeds in all directions. The stall holder had to crawl onto the floor to pick them up.
“And now you stay with me Dewey, you have done enough damage.”
“But mum, I was thirsty.”
“I don’t care, straying off like that, anything could have happened. A spider could have swooped down and carried you off for lunch. Just think in future.”
Dewey decided a spider’s dinner was not his ambition so decided to stay with mum. It was then that something caught his eye.
“Look mum, they are selling green caterpillars over there, can I have one?”
“Definitely not, Dewey, what do you want with a caterpillar?”
“All the kids at school have one. Well not exactly, but we were talking about it being a good idea.”
“Dewey caterpillars have to be looked after. We don’t have the room at home and we are not keeping it outside. We will have to feed it and neither your father or I are venturing out in the night to give it food. There are too many dangers. Bats, mice and even giants called humans, as well as their giant cats. No, Dewey. And why is it a good idea?”
“When they grow up they turn into butterflies and we can sit on them and fly to the market instead of sitting on those carts being drawn by those smelly earwigs and woodlice.”
That night Dewey lay in bed and dreamt of a never ending supply of nectar and a stable with three butterflies. Yes even the little people have their problems and dreams.