The Tale of Buster Bumblebee | Page 9

excellent answer, for it seemed to keep
people quiet. And it made some think that perhaps Buster Bumblebee
was not quite so dull as he often appeared.
Once, indeed, he had thought it would be fun to help with the
honey-making. So he stopped one of the workers when she was on her
way home with a load of nectar.
"Let me help you carry that home!" Buster said.

Now, the workers were all a shrewish lot. They were terribly
short-tempered--especially if anybody interfered with their work, which
they loved better than anything else in the world.
"Don't you come near me!" snapped the worker angrily. "Keep away or
I'll sting you!" she threatened.
Naturally, a happy, easy-going person like Buster Bumblebee wasn't
looking for trouble of that sort. So he dodged clumsily out of sight
behind a milkweed; and he made up his mind then that that was the last
time he would ever have anything to do with one of those testy
honey-makers.
Of course it was a bit difficult to avoid them entirely in a family of two
hundred or more, all living together in a medium-sized house. And so
Buster Bumblebee decided at last that he would be far happier in some
place that was not so crowded, and where there was no work going
on--and no workers.
And so, one fine August day, Buster left the family home, never to set
foot inside it again. But he often passed that way and lingered just
outside the door, to listen to the music and the sound of dancing within.
That was the thing that he missed most; for, like all his family, he was
fond of music. And he was forever humming to himself as he sipped
nectar from the clover-tops or the flowers in Farmer Green's garden.
[Illustration: Buster Listened to Mrs. Ladybug's Suggestion. (Page 56)]

XII
THE CARPENTER BEE
After Buster Bumblebee left the old house in the meadow, where Mrs.
Field Mouse had once lived, he had no real home. Like that
quarrelsome rascal, Peter Mink, he would crawl into any good place
that he happened to find. Sometimes Buster chose a hole in a fence-rail,

and sometimes a crack in the side of one of the farm-buildings. He
really didn't much care where he spent the night, provided it was not
too far from the flower garden or the clover field.
Not being one of the worrying kind, Buster was quite contented with
his lot. And it would never have occurred to him to live in any different
style had it not been for a remark that little Mrs. Ladybug made to him
one day.
"I should think--" she said--"I should think that the son of a queen
ought to have a house of his own, instead of sleeping--like a
tramp--where night overtakes him."
Now, Mrs. Ladybug's words did not offend Buster Bumblebee in the
least.
"No doubt you know best," he told her. "But how can I build a house?
I've never worked in all my life. And I don't intend to begin now."
"Why not get some one to build a house for you?" she asked him.
"I never thought of that!" he cried. "Whom would you suggest?"
"I know the very person!" Mrs. Ladybug told him. "He's a Carpenter
Bee; and he lives in the big poplar by the brook. Perhaps you know him.
Johnnie Green calls him Whiteface," she said. "They do say he's a very
skillful workman."
Buster Bumblebee replied that he had never met the Carpenter, but that
he would go and see him at once. So over to the big poplar he flew.
And soon he was knocking boldly at the door of the Carpenter's house.
Pretty soon a mild-appearing person, who looked not a little like Buster
himself, stepped through the doorway. He wore a white patch across his
front and his clothes needed brushing sadly, for they showed many
marks of sawdust.
"Are you the Carpenter?" Buster Bumblebee inquired.

The mild stranger said he was.
"How would you like to build a house for me?" Buster asked him.
The Carpenter seemed greatly surprised at the suggestion. "I don't think
I'd like it very well," he said timidly.
"Why not?" Buster demanded.
"Well, I'm busy building an addition to my house," the Carpenter
explained. "And besides, you're a total stranger. I've never seen you
before; and we might quarrel if I did any work for you."
"Oh, no!" Buster Bumblebee assured him. "You couldn't quarrel with
me, because I'm the most peace-loving person in Pleasant Valley."
"There!" the Carpenter cried. "I knew as soon as I set eyes on you that
we were bound not to agree.... I've always claimed that there's no
peacefuller person than I am in this whole neighborhood. So here we
are,