Johannes could understand what the little crickets said. But it was not at all the same as the master at his school taught him. First came geography: they knew nothing of the quarters of the world. They only knew twenty-six sand-hills at most, and two ponds. No one could know of anything beyond, said the master, and what was told of it was mere idle fancy. Then came the botany lesson. They were all very sharp at this, and many prizes were given, consisting of the youngest and sweetest blades of grass of various length. But the zoology was what most puzzled Johannes. The animals were classified as leaping, flying, and creeping. The crickets could leap and fly, and thus stood at the head of all; next to them the frogs. Birds were mentioned with every sign of horror, as most malignant and dangerous creatures. Finally man was spoken of. He was a huge useless and mischievous being, very low in the scale, as he could neither leap nor fly; but happily he was very rarely met with. A very tiny cricket, who had never yet seen a man, had three blows with a reed for including man among the harmless beasts. Johannes had never heard anything like this before. Then the master called out: 'Silence! Leaping exercise!' And the little crickets immediately ceased conning their lessons, and began to play leap-frog, in the cleverest and nimblest way, the big teacher at their head. It was such a merry sight that Johannes clapped his hands with glee; but at that sound, the whole school vanished in an instant into the sand-hills, and the grass plot was as still as death. 'There, that is your doing, Johannes! You must not behave so roughly. It is easy enough to see that you were born among men.' 'I am so sorry! Twill do my best. But it was so funny!' 'It will be still funnier,' said Windekind. They crossed the grass plot and went up the down on the other side. Oof! it was hard walking in the heavy sand; but as soon as Johannes held on to the pale-blue robe he flew upwards, lightly and swiftly. Half-way up there was a rabbit-burrow. The rabbit who lived there was lying with his head and forepaws over the edge. The wild roses were still in bloom, and their sweet, delicate fragrance mingled with that of the thyme which grew on the sand-hill. Johannes had often seen rabbits pop into their holes, and had wondered what the burrows looked like inside, and how they sat there together, and would they not be stifled? So he was very glad when he heard his companion ask the rabbit whether they might step in. 'So far as I am concerned, and welcome,' said the rabbit. 'But it most unfortunately happens that I have this very evening lent my burrow for a charitable entertainment, and so am not properly master in my own house.' 'Dear, dear! Has some disaster occurred?'