The Tale of Buster Bumblebee Part 8

Old Spot promptly looked bewildered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied. "I don't know anything about any bee. And I wish you wouldn't trouble me with your silly questions. These men are helping us to build our new barn; and I'm too busy to talk to anyone."

Buster b.u.mblebee was certainly disappointed. And he soon decided that Jimmy Rabbit must have been mistaken. It wasn't the raising bee, after all, that had brought all the neighbors together there. They had come to help Farmer Green with his new barn! Old dog Spot had said so. And he ought to know, if anyone did.

XIX

THE FEAST AT FARMER GREEN'S

In spite of his disappointment at not seeing the raising bee (that new kind of bee that Jimmy Rabbit had told him about) Buster b.u.mblebee decided that he would stay at Farmer Green's place and watch the men put up the frame of the new barn. He remembered that Jimmy had said there would be things to eat afterwards--and maybe a dance, besides.

Although the barn was a big one there were so many people to help that it was hardly later than midday when the great timbers were all in place.

And then the men caught up their coats and strolled back to the dooryard.

The small boys had all hurried ahead of them as soon as they noticed that the women and girls were already setting generous dishes of goodies upon long tables beneath the shade of the maple trees in front of the farmhouse.

And when he saw what was going on Buster b.u.mblebee hastened to the maple grove too. He intended to taste of every kind of food that was there, in the hope of finding some dainty that he would like.

So for some time he busied himself buzzing up and down the long table, alighting on heaps of doughnuts and cookies, pies, cakes, bread and b.u.t.ter, baked beans and ever so many other good things.

But Buster b.u.mblebee did not find anything that really pleased him until he paused at a fat sugar-bowl. Since the sugar was sweet he couldn't help liking that, though it did seem somewhat tasteless to him after his feasts among the clover-tops.

"This is the only food here that's worth eating," he remarked to himself, "though perhaps the cake would not be bad, once a person learned to like it."

Luckily Buster had time to make a hearty meal off the sugar before a red-cheeked girl shooed him away. And then Farmer Green and all his friends sat down at the long tables.

How they did eat! They began with pie. And Buster b.u.mblebee, flying lazily above their heads, noticed with amazement the enormous pieces that disappeared into the mouths of men, women and children. One mouthful such as they took would have fed him at least a month. And there was one boy called Bill who stowed away enough each time his fork traveled to his mouth to nourish Buster b.u.mblebee a whole summer.

"That boy is making a pig of himself!" Buster b.u.mblebee exclaimed, right out loud. But since n.o.body understood what he said, no one paid any attention to his remark. "You'll be ill, if you're not careful," Buster buzzed right in the greedy boy's ear.

But the youngster known as Bill only moved his head slightly. And to Buster's alarm he continued to bolt huge mouthfuls of everything within his reach.

It was really a terrible sight. Buster b.u.mblebee was so fascinated by it that he sat right down on a low-hanging maple bough and kept his eyes fixed on that marvellous boy.

Before the feast came to an end the boy Bill's face underwent an odd change. In the beginning it had worn a wide smile. But at last Buster saw a look of pain steal over Bill's somewhat besmeared features. And beneath his coating of tan he seemed to have grown pale.

Before long Buster was sure he heard a groan, though no one of the merrymakers paid the slightest heed to it. Everyone was too busy eating and talking with his neighbors to notice Bill's distress.

Then came another groan--and another--and another--and another, until finally greedy Bill clapped both his hands across the front of his jacket and let out a terrific roar.

"Ah!" said Buster b.u.mblebee. "You have a stomachache, young man. And it's no wonder."

XX

BUSTER AND THE FIDDLERS

There was a great rattling of knives and forks dropped suddenly upon plates and a clatter of cups set hastily upon saucers. For when the boy with the stomachache screamed aloud in his agony all of Farmer Green's guests turned towards him to see what was the matter.

Buster b.u.mblebee saw a large woman dressed in bright red rush up to the boy Bill and lead him away towards the farmhouse, quite doubled up with pain.

"That's his mother!" Buster decided. "And it's lucky for him that she's here."

Everybody else seemed to think likewise. And no one appeared much worried. At least, all the company fell upon the feast once more. And in a surprisingly short time everything but the dishes had vanished.

Still the people lingered there and talked--or the grown-ups did, anyhow (of course the boys and girls didn't want to sit at a table after the good things had all been eaten off it). And Buster b.u.mblebee had just made up his mind that the whole affair was very dull! Yes! he had begun to wish he had not wasted his time at Farmer Green's party, when suddenly he heard something that sent a tingle all through him.

It was a most delightful sound. And noticing that the people were leaving the scene of the banquet, Buster again recalled Jimmy Rabbit's advice to "follow the crowd." So he found himself shortly in the carriage-house, from which everything on wheels had been run outside into the farmyard.

At one side of the great square room sat three men, each holding a queer wooden object, upon which he sawed busily without appearing to cut anything. And Buster soon learned that the bewitching sound came from the sawing.

"How do you like the music?" said a voice in Buster's ear. He turned quickly. And he saw then that old dog Spot had followed the crowd too and was sitting in the doorway, where everyone had to walk around him. He seemed to be enjoying himself. And he kept thumping the floor with his tail as if he were trying to keep time with the tune.

"The music is beautiful," Buster b.u.mblebee said in reply to Spot's question. "But there's something I don't quite understand. I've seen men sawing wood before, but they made no such sound as this."

Old dog Spot couldn't help smiling the least bit.

"Why, those men aren't sawing wood. They're _fiddling_," he explained; "three fiddlers fiddling upon fiddles.... There's going to be a dance, you know," old dog Spot continued. "And of course n.o.body cares to dance without music."

"Oh, certainly not!" Buster b.u.mblebee agreed. And he began to be glad he had come to the farmyard, after all. You see, he was fond of music and dancing. And he thought the music played by the three fiddlers was too wonderful for words.

Soon the floor was crowded with merry people who bowed and sc.r.a.ped to one another and danced breakdowns and cut pigeon-wings and other capers, while Buster b.u.mblebee flitted gaily about just above their bobbing heads, trying his best to keep time to the music and wis.h.i.+ng that he had brought some of his friends along with him to Farmer Green's party.

As for the raising bee, Buster had completely forgotten it. He was having so much fun at the dance that the real reason for his coming to Farmer Green's place had quite slipped out of his mind.

XXI

THE b.u.mBLEBEE IN THE PUMPKIN

Of course the dancers at Farmer Green's party had to stop now and then to get their breath. And the fiddlers, too, had to pause in order to rest.

That is, two of them found it necessary to lay their fiddles aside once in a while. And it was no wonder; for they had each eaten a whole custard pie.

But the third fiddler was different. He was a man after Buster b.u.mblebee's own heart. He seemed to love to make music and never tired of coaxing the jolliest tunes out of his old fiddle that anybody could hope to hear. _He_ only laughed when his fellow fiddlers lay back in their chairs and mopped their red faces. And just to keep the company in good spirits--and because he couldn't help it--this frolicsome fiddler would start right ahead and play something that was sure to set a body's feet a-going and make him feel so happy that he would want to shout right out--good and loud.

Whenever this merry musician played all alone like that Buster b.u.mblebee stayed close by him in order to hear better. And so it was that Buster at last met with a surprise. He was bobbing about with a great deal of pleasure to the strains of a lively tune when he heard something that made him settle quickly upon a beam above the jolly fiddler's head.

He wanted to sit still and listen. (Somehow he always had to buzz more or less when he was flying.) Yes! he wanted to listen closely because he was almost certain that he heard the buzzing of a strange bee. And the sound seemed to come right out of the fiddle!