children loved Pan--for that was his name--because he told them such
beautiful stories and played on a set of pipes which he had made from
the reeds which grew by the river. Every evening, when it was time for
the sun to go to sleep and all the little stars to wake up, Pan would
take his pipes, go down to the river side, and play all the songs he
knew. Everybody could hear Pan's music for miles and miles, but many of
them did not like his music, and wished that he would not play. Once
some of these people gathered together and planned how they could stop
Pan from playing his pipes, and while they were talking, some beetles
near by heard their plans. Now, one of these beetles had hurt his wing
at one time and had fallen down in the dust on the road, and could go no
farther. It was a very hot day, and the poor little beetle was almost
dead from the heat. Soon Pan came walking along and saw the beetle, and,
picking it up very carefully, he carried it on some green leaves to a
shady place, where he left it to rest and get well. The beetle had never
forgotten Pan's kindness, and when he heard the plans these bad people
had made he said: "Come, friends, and go with me, for we must hurry and
tell Pan what the wicked people have planned, so that he will not be
there when they go to push him into the river."

The beetles had only one day in which to reach Pan, for the evil people
were going to carry out their plans the next night, so they spread their
wings and flew as fast as they could fly. They could not travel far at a
time, because their wings grew very tired and their bodies were so
heavy. When they could fly no longer they would walk, and when they were
tired walking they would fly again. In this way they hurried on and on,
for the day was growing into night, and they could hear Pan playing his
beautiful songs way down by the river bank. They had almost reached him
when they heard what seemed to be a crowd of people running through the
bushes and among the trees, and it seemed that they were going toward