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  • I always felt bad for Grasshopper. Sure, he had fiddled all summer, but he brought joy to people's lives—although strictly speaking they were just ants. The Ants enjoyed a tune while they worked; the grasshopper had created a soundtrack for their lives. He softened their mean existence. Still they despised him. After all he fraternized with dung beetles and cicadas. Drank dew all day and freeloaded off the bounty of nature. He didn't invest, and didn't hoard; didn't build and didn't trade. Not that he had the tools to do so. His organizational skills were minimal and he didn't even have a grasping mandible. Poor Grasshopper. Out in the cold.

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