The Tale of Buster Bumblebee Part 2

"Ask my cousin, Mr. Crow," said Jasper Jay instantly. "He's a great traveller. Spends his winters in the South, _he_ does. And no doubt he can help you."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Buster Thanks Old Mr. Crow For His Advice. (_Page 25_)]

"Where can I find Mr. Crow?" Buster b.u.mblebee asked.

"I don't know of any better place to look than the cornfield," Jasper Jay told him.

Luckily Buster knew where the cornfield was. So he started off at once to find Mr. Crow.

And sure enough! as soon as Buster reached the edge of the cornfield, there was the old gentleman, sitting on the topmost rail of the fence and looking as if he had just enjoyed an excellent meal.

As soon as he saw that Buster b.u.mblebee wanted to talk with him, old Mr.

Crow was willing enough to listen, for he always liked to know about other people's affairs. He kept nodding his head with a wise air while Buster explained to him how he wished to find some cotton, with which to stuff his ears every night, so that he might not be disturbed when the trumpeter aroused the household at three or four o'clock each morning.

"That's a splendid plan," said old Mr. Crow when Buster had finished. "An excellent plan--but you may as well forget it, because there's no cotton growing in these parts. Cotton grows in the South, more than a thousand miles away. Next winter when I go to the South I might be able to find some for you, and bring it back with me in the spring. But that wouldn't help you now."

Buster b.u.mblebee was quite discouraged. And since he didn't know what to do, he asked Mr. Crow what he would suggest.

"Why don't you set back the hands of the family clock?" the old gentleman asked. "If you make the clock three or four hours slow the trumpeter won't trumpet until six or seven or eight o'clock. And I'm sure that's late enough for anybody to get up."

Buster shook his head mournfully.

"We haven't any clock at our house," he explained.

"Then----" said old Mr. Crow, "then, if you want more sleep why don't you go to bed earlier? If you went to bed three or four hours before sunset you wouldn't mind getting up at dawn."

"Hurrah!" Buster shouted. "That's just what I'll do! And I'm certainly much obliged to you, Mr. Crow, for helping me."

"Don't mention it," said the old gentleman, looking greatly pleased with himself.

"I won't tell anybody," Buster promised.

"Oh, I didn't mean that, exactly," Mr. Crow told him hastily. "If you want to inform your friends how clever I am, I have no objection, of course."

Then Buster went off, thinking what a kind person old Mr. Crow was. And that very afternoon, long before sunset, he curled himself up in an out-of-the-way corner of the house and went to sleep. Everybody was so busy hurrying in and out in order to finish the day's work that no one noticed or disturbed him. And when the trumpeter sounded the rising call the next morning Buster b.u.mblebee was actually the first one in the house to open his eyes and jump up and hasten out to get his breakfast.

All of which only went to prove that old Mr. Crow knew a thing or two--and maybe even more.

VI

JOHNNIE GREEN IS STUNG

There had been so much rain early in the summer that even by the middle of August Farmer Green had not been able to finish his haying. His son Johnnie was sorry, too--because he had to work in the hot hayfield almost every day, when he would far rather have gone swimming in the mill-pond, under the shade of the great willow.

Sometimes Johnnie rode on the hayrake. And since he liked to drive the old horse Ebenezer, he didn't object to that part of his duties so much.

What he hated most was pitching hay with a pitchfork. And next to that, he disliked going to the spring for a jugful of water.

But those unpleasant tasks were nothing at all compared with what happened to him one day when he stepped squarely upon the doorway of the b.u.mblebee family's house.

Johnnie's carelessness made the workers angry at once. And several of them rushed out and stung Johnnie Green severely.

Then _he_ was angry. And he declared he would "fix them"--as soon as he could think of a good way to do it.

And that very afternoon, while he was bringing the heavy jug from the spring, Johnnie Green thought of a fine plan for punis.h.i.+ng the b.u.mblebee family. He liked his plan so well that he could hardly wait to try it; and he went back to the hayfield almost at a run, whereas he usually sauntered along so slowly that his father often had to speak to him somewhat sharply.

But this time Farmer Green could not complain. Johnnie even brought the jug--and the tin cup too--to the knoll in the meadow where his father and the hired man were working. And then Farmer Green said:

"How are your stings now?"

"Awful!" Johnnie informed him hopefully.

"Maybe you'd like to stop work for the rest of the day and go swimming,"

said Farmer Green, with a wink at the hired man, "unless you're feeling too miserable," he added.

"Oh, yes! Oh, no!" cried Johnnie. "My stings aren't too bad for that!"

And he started off at once across the field, taking the jug with him.

"I'll leave the jug among the brakes in the fence-corner," he called, as he trotted away.

Now, Johnnie Green took the jug with him because he needed it. It was part of his plan for punis.h.i.+ng the b.u.mblebee family. And instead of going straight to the fence-corner, Johnnie made at once for the b.u.mblebee family's front door. As soon as he reached it he poured some of the water out of the jug--but not all of it. Then he put his ear to the jug's mouth and listened. And he smiled happily--in spite of his stings--as he heard the roar from inside it.

Buster b.u.mblebee, hurrying home to go to bed--for he was still following Mr. Crow's plan--Buster noticed Johnnie and wondered what he was doing.

But as soon as he went inside the house he forgot all about Johnnie Green. And when, a few moments later, there was a terrible sound of sc.r.a.ping and scratching in the long hall that led to the innermost part of the house, Buster b.u.mblebee never once thought to mention to anyone that he had seen Johnnie in the dooryard.

VII

A JUGFUL OF b.u.mBLEBEES

When the workers--as well as Buster b.u.mblebee--heard the raking, sc.r.a.ping sound in the hall of their house they all stopped what they were doing and shrilled "An enemy!" And with one accord they rushed for the front door. They were terribly angry.

Not wis.h.i.+ng to miss anything that was going to happen, Buster joined the mob and went sailing out into the open meadow. And there, quite close to the door, stood the queer object that Buster had noticed together with Johnnie Green only a minute before. He wondered now what that strange thing was; for Buster b.u.mblebee did not know a jug when he saw one. And neither did the workers, nor any other member of the b.u.mblebee family.

"That's the enemy!" cried Buster suddenly, pointing to the jug. "It was talking out of its mouth right into Johnnie Green's ear when I came home."

Sounding a dreadful battle cry, all the workers turned upon the jug and buzzed so near it that they couldn't help hearing the same roaring from inside it to which Johnnie Green had listened with so much pleasure.

"Buster's almost right!" several of the workers shouted. "The enemy has hidden inside this thing. And we'll have to go in and sting him."

At that the workers began to pop into the jug, which Johnnie Green had thoughtfully left uncorked. And Buster b.u.mblebee, still eager to see everything, hastened to plunge inside the dim jug along with the rest.

It was soon not a dim but a dark jug. For the moment the last angry b.u.mblebee had disappeared inside it Johnnie Green stole quickly up from behind a hayc.o.c.k and slipped the cork into the mouth of the jug.