The Ant and the Cricket

I'm in the final stages of making my mini book on one of Aesop's Fables, "The Ant and the Cricket". This was a black and white project, which I haven't done much of, so it was definitely a challenge for me. I was trying a flatter approach with a different style than I'm used to. I'm not sure if it's going to be my style of choice, but I do want to try it more and get better at inking! (Photoshop was my good friend for this project.) If you are unfamiliar with the Fable you can read it yourself! For my book I used a different version of the story, in poem form, and actually changed a few parts and added the beginning so it would work better with the flow of the book. I think my favorite part is the hippie cricket character! I think I will play with him more and see what happens!

A silly young cricket, accustomed to sing

Through the warm, sunny months of gay summer and spring,

Called to the hard-working ants to join in his fun,
As they gathered their grain in the hot summer sun.
“There's no time to rest,” the ants all said.
“Winter is coming and our family must be fed.”

The cricket just laughed and sang a new song,
But soon the weather grew cold and, surely, before long,
His antenna became stiff an his toes felt numb.
The snow was falling and winter was come.

Not a crumb to be found

On the snow-covered ground;

Not a flower could he see,

Not a leaf on a tree.
“Oh, what will become,” says the cricket, “of me?”


At last by starvation and famine made bold,

All dripping with wet and all trembling with cold,

Away he set off to a miserly ant

To see if, to keep him alive, he would grant

Him shelter from rain.

A mouthful of grain

He wished only to borrow,

He’d repay it to-morrow;

If not helped, he must die of starvation and sorrow.

Says the ant to the cricket: “I’m your servant and friend,

But we ants never borrow, we ants never lend.

Pray tell me, dear sir, did you lay nothing by

When the weather was warm?” Said the cricket, “Not I.

My heart was so light

That I sang day and night,

For all nature looked gay.”

“You sang, sir, you say?

Go then,” said the ant, “and sing winter away.”
Thus ending, he hastily lifted the wicket

And out of the door turned the poor little cricket.


Upon hearing this story, one might conclude:

If you live without work, you must live without 
food.


Here are a few of the images in my book.