Dreamland | Page 6

slowly recovered himself; "I don't like folks to laugh at me, now!"
"I 'm not laughing at you now," explained the humble-bee, gravely; "I was laughing at you then. Do you object to that?"
Betty disdained to reply, and began to pull a dry clover-blossom to pieces.
"Tut, tut, child! Don't be so touchy! A body can laugh, can't he, and no harm done? You 'd better be good-tempered and jolly, and then I 'll tell you where I 'm going,--which, I believe, was what you wished to know in the first place, was n't it?"
Betty nodded her head, but did not speak.
"Oho!" said the humble-bee, rising and preparing to take his departure. And now Betty discovered, on seeing him more closely, that he was not a humble-bee at all, but just a very corpulent old gentleman dressed in quite an antique fashion, with black knee-breeches, black silk stockings, black patent-leather pumps with large buckles, a most elaborate black velvet waistcoat with yellow and orange stripes across, and a coat of black velvet to correspond with the breeches; while in his hand he carried a very elegant three-cornered hat, which, out of respect to her, he had removed from his head at the first moment of their meeting. "So we are sulky?" he went on. "Dear, dear! That is a very disagreeable condition to allow one's self to relapse into. H'm, h'm! very unpleasant, very! Under the circumstances I think I 'd better be going; for if you 'll believe me, I 'm pressed for time, and have none to waste, and only came back to converse with you because you addressed a civil question to me, which, being a gentleman, I was bound to answer. Good--"
He would have said "by;" but Betty sprang to her feet and cried: "Please don't leave me. I 'll be good and pleasant, only please don't go. Please tell me where you 're going, and if--if you would be so good, I 'd like ever and ever so much to go along. Don't--do--may I?"
The little gentleman looked her over from head to foot, and then replied in a hesitating sort of way: "You may not be aware of it, but you are extremely incautious. What would you do if I were to whisk you off and never bring you back, eh?"
"You don't look like a kidnapper, sir," said Betty, respectfully.
"A what?" inquired the little gentleman.
"A kidnapper," repeated Betty.
"What's that?" questioned her companion.
"Oh, a person who steals little children. Don't you know?"
"But why _kidnapper_?" insisted the little old man.
"I suppose because he naps kids. My uncle Will calls Roger and me 'kids.' It is n't very nice of him, is it?" she asked, glad to air her grievance.
"Child-stealer would be more to the point, I think, or infant-abductor," remarked the old gentleman, who saw, perhaps, how anxious Betty was for sympathy, and was determined not to give her another opportunity of considering herself injured.
He seemed to be very busy considering the subject for a second or so, and then he said suddenly: "But if you want to go, why, come along, for I must be off. But don't make a practice of it, mind, when you get back."
"You have n't told me where yet," suggested Betty.
"True; so I have n't," said the old gentleman, setting his three-cornered hat firmly on his head and settling the fine laces at his wrists. "It's to By-and-by. And now, if you 're ready, off we go!"
He took Betty's hand, and she suddenly found herself moving through the air in a most remarkable manner,--not touching the ground with her feet, but seeming to skim along quite easily and with no effort at all.
"If you please, Mr.--" She paused because she suddenly remembered that she did not know the name of the gentleman who was conducting her on so delightful a journey.
"Bombus," said he, cheerfully,--"B. Bombus, Esq., of Clovertop Manse, Honeywell."
"But you 're not a minister, are you?" inquired Betty.
"No; why?" returned the gentleman, quickly.
"Because you said 'Manse.' A manse is a minister's house, is n't it?" asked Betty.
"No, not always," Bombus replied. "But I call my place Clovertop Manse because it belongs to me and not to my wife, do you see? I call it Manse because it is a man's. It is perfectly plain. If it was a woman's, I 'd say so."
"Well, I don't think you 're much of a _humble_-bee--" began Betty, and then caught herself up short and stopped.
Mr. Bombus gave her a severe look from under his three-cornered hat, but did not reply at once, and they advanced on their way for some little time in silence. Then the gentleman said:
"I 've been thinking of what you said about my not being a humble-bee. Of course I am not a humble-bee, but you seemed to lay considerable stress