Farmer Green’s garden was growing fast.  The sweet corn waved and rustled whenever a breeze swept it.  The beets and carrots sent their pert tops a little higher each day.  The cabbages began to puff their heads out as if they felt of some importance in the world.  And the potato vines were actually pretty, with their white blossoms amid the green leaves.  Farmer Green was very proud of his potatoes.  He said, in Mrs. Ladybug’s hearing, that they were the best he had ever raised.

“I must fly over to the garden and have a look at those potatoes,” Mrs. Ladybug thought.  “It’s always a pleasure to see flourishing crops.”

Before she found time to spare for her visit to the garden a traveler entered the orchard one day.  At least, he had every appearance of having come from other parts.  For he carried a traveling bag ­an old-fashioned carpetbag ­and he seemed to have lost his way.

As soon as Mrs. Ladybug saw him she couldn’t help thinking what a handsome person he was.  He wore a yellow coat.  And instead of being spotted with black, as her gown was, it was striped.

“Good morning!” said the stranger.

“Good morning!” said Mrs. Ladybug.  “Can I be of any service to you?”

The stranger took off his cap.  He was a most polite chap.

“Perhaps you can help me,” he replied.

“I’m looking for Farmer Green’s vegetable garden.  Do you know where it is?”

“Indeed I do!” Mrs. Ladybug cried.  “It’s at the end of this orchard, just beyond the fence.”

“And the potato patch ­I suppose I’ll have no trouble finding that?” the stranger went on.

“Follow your nose!” said Mrs. Ladybug.  “You’re headed right for it now.”

The stranger thanked her.  And he was about to move on.  But of course Mrs. Ladybug wanted to talk more than that before he got away.

“The potatoes are fine this season,” she remarked.

The stranger looked greatly pleased.

“That’s good news,” he told her.  “Have you seen them yourself?”

“Not yet!” Mrs. Ladybug answered.  “But I heard Farmer Green say they were fine.  And he ought to know if anybody does.”

“He certainly ought,” the stranger agreed.  Then, thanking Mrs. Ladybug once more, he hurried toward the garden.

“One moment!” she called.  There were several questions that she wanted to ask the newcomer.  She was wildly curious to know who he was and where he came from and what business had brought him to Pleasant Valley.

But he couldn’t have heard her.  Anyhow, he was out of sight in no time, leaving Mrs. Ladybug almost bursting with the questions that had sprung to her lips.

“He might have waited a second,” she muttered.  “But if he has traveled a long way no doubt he’s eager to get to his journey’s end.”

Luckily Mrs. Ladybug had kept her eyes open when talking with the gentleman in the striped yellow coat.  And as he turned to leave her she looked closely at his carpetbag.  On one side of it she read, in big letters: 

P. Bug
Colorado