up? There he is," he
added, pulling aside the curtain. "He is stretching himself, and standing
on his tiptoes. Grandpa says he's saying, 'Welcome to the farm, Don
and Joyce!' Do hurry and get up! We must go out and help Grandpa do
the milking."
Half an hour later, Grandma called two hungry children in to breakfast.
After that, they were busy and happy all the morning long. Joyce
helped Grandma to wash the dishes and tidy the house, and Don
followed close at Grandpa's heels as he did his morning's work about
the farm. He felt very grown-up indeed when a neighbor came by, and
Grandpa told him he had a "new hand."
After dinner, Grandma settled down for her afternoon's nap. Grandpa
went to help a neighbor with some work, and so the children were left
alone.
They began to run races in the wide grassy space in front of the old
farm house.
But they made so much noise that soon Joyce said, "I'm afraid we will
wake Grandma, Don. We'd better be quiet."
"Let's go to the orchard," said Don. "We can be as noisy as we like
there, and she won't even hear us." So away they scampered, to play in
the shade of the old apple trees.
But Grandma's nap was not to last long; for soon she was awakened by
a scream from the orchard. Hurrying out, she found Joyce dancing up
and down, with her hand pressed tightly over one eye. Don stood
watching her with round, frightened eyes. He could not imagine what
had happened, to make his sister act like that.
But Grandma knew. Away back in the orchard, Grandpa had several
hives of bees. Joyce had gone too near one of the hives; and a bee had
done the rest.
Grandma did not say much. Quietly she took the little girl's hand and
led her back to the house. Soon Joyce was lying on the couch, and
Grandma was wringing cold water out of a cloth, and gently placing it
on her eye. Before long the pain was gone; but the eye began to swell,
and soon she was not able to see out of it at all.
"It's all my fault that we went to the orchard," said Don, looking sober.
"No, it's mine," said Joyce. "I was afraid we would wake Grandma."
"Well," laughed Grandma, "I guess it was mine, because I forgot to tell
you about the bees."
When it was time to get ready for bed that night, Grandma bathed the
swollen eye again. "I wish there were no bees, Grandma," said the little
girl suddenly.
"Why, you like honey, don't you, dear?" asked Grandma.
"Ye-es, I like honey; but I don't like bees--they sting so!"
"Bees are very interesting and hard-working little creatures," said
Grandma; "and if they are let alone, they will not harm anyone."
"I didn't mean to bother them," said Joyce, "but one stung me."
"That's so," said Grandma; "but they have certain rules, and you must
have broken one of them. A bee's sting is the only thing she can use to
protect the hive against intruders--and the bee that stings you always
dies. That's the price she has to pay to do her duty."
"Oh!" said Joyce, "I'm sorry I went too near. But please, Grandma, tell
me some more about bees."
"There are lots of things to learn about them," said Grandma. "They
live in queer little houses called hives. They have a queen; and if she is
stolen, or dies, they will not go on working without her. Only one
queen can live in each house; when a new queen is about to come out
of her cell, the old queen gathers her followers and they swarm.
"The queen bee lays the eggs; and when the eggs hatch, the hive is so
full of bees that it cannot hold them all. As soon as they find another
queen, some of them must move out.
"When the bees are swarming, they always take good care of their
queen. Sometimes they settle on a limb of a tree; and while they are
there, they keep their queen covered, so no one can find her. They send
out scouts to find a new home; and as soon as it is found, they all move
the re.
"Sometimes Grandpa finds the queen, and puts her in the hive. Then
she makes a sort of drumming noise, and the other bees follow her
inside."
"Was it the queen bee that stung me?" asked Joyce.
"No, the queen never uses her sting except when in battle with another
queen bee; but the other bees take care of her, even if they must die for
her sake. There are different kinds of bees in the hive. Drone
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