Dedicated to dreamers everywhere.

Wilberforce was a dreamer; he has been a dreamer since I first met him. Before we go any further, I think that I should be introduced. I am Crichton, Wilberforce’s friend and the most important Grasshopper in the whole garden. I must stress that I am a grasshopper, not a cricket; these things are often very important. You may already be wondering who Mayhew is. Well, I shall tell you all about him shortly. First, we must talk about my friend Wilberforce, whose dreaming sometimes got us all into trouble. Last week Wilberforce was in his favourite place, curled up under a lemon tree in the garden, snoozing quietly and keeping cool in the shade. He was dreaming. I knew he was dreaming because a waterfall had appeared at the bottom of the garden. This always happens when Wilberforce dreams and leads to trouble and danger; well, not always, but anyway, I must get on with the story. We often have exciting adventures, meet fantastical friends, and spend many happy hours in the land beyond the waterfall, the land of dreams, Halcyon, where Mayhew lives. Wilberforce arched his back, stretched his legs, and, with his eyes still firmly closed, cocked his head back and yawned. Slowly, he opened one of his bright green eyes and, looking straight at me, said quietly;  

“Are you coming for a walk, Crichton?”

Whenever this young black and white cat said this to me, I always felt empty in the pit of my stomach. I think my cheeks flushed, and Wilberforce chuckled mischievously to himself as my big hind legs clicked together nervously. It was always the same before we went behind the waterfall; I got shaky, and my glasses steamed up, much to Wilberforce’s amusement. He always made me feel calm after a few minutes of chuckling and joking about my back legs and how I always pulled out my fine silk handkerchief from my tweed waistcoat and huffed and spluttered while I cleaned my foggy spectacles. Wilberforce always saw the funny side of things, and I like to think that he would never make me go behind the waterfall unless I really wanted to, despite being slightly nervous about it. On this particular day, I seem to remember that it was hot; yes, it was, in fact, downright scorching. I had been reclining in the high branches of the lemon tree for an hour before Wilberforce had dropped with great agility and poise off the wall of his human’s house and threaded his way silently towards his favourite early afternoon snoozing spot. 

“Good afternoon, Crichton. You were very noisy last night. My humans said that you woke them at least twice.”

“Impudent young scamp”, I replied with as much indignation as I could muster.

“Archibald and his friends make all the racket; I’m a grasshopper, not a cricket, as you know only too well. I must add too that you are very cheeky.”

I wasn’t really upset, Wilberforce managed to tease me somehow or other every morning. It was his way of letting me know he was thinking about me.

“Good morning Wilberforce,” I said as I hopped high into the air, landing, if I may say so, without a sound and right next to my cheeky young friend who was at that moment curling himself into a ball, ready for another of his long sleeps. As I have said already, when Wilberforce dreams, the waterfall appears. He had only been asleep for ten minutes when I heard the sound of water crashing into a deep pool only twenty yards in front of me, where the orange tree usually is. Wilberforce was awake and needed to go behind the waterfall for more adventure.

“I would be honoured to accompany you,” I responded to his question.

Perhaps this time, it will be nothing more than a nice walk. I was trying to sound convincing. But I don't think I was too successful.

“We shall have to find Mayhew, and then we will know what is in store for us,” said Wilberforce with a beaming smile.

The Harp that Wouldn't Play - A Wilberforce and Mayhew Adventure by Janos Di-Fanteria.