The Eagle's Nest

BLACKIE & SON LIMITED 50 Old Bailey, London 17 Stanhope Street, Glasgow BLACKIE & SON (INDIA) LIMITED Warwick House, Fort Street, Bombay BLACKIE & SON (CANADA) LIMITED 1118 Bay Street, Toronto

One bright May morning, Madge, Betty, and John were a little more inattentive than usual over their lessons. Miss Thompson was very patient. She knew that warm spring days were full of distracting interests. The first wasp of the season managed to get into the schoolroom and buzz ostentatiously on the window-pane in the middle of a history lesson. There was a long pause of expectation on the part of the three children. Surely even a grown-up person could not be so utterly uninterested as to allow a queen-wasp to escape alive?
What was the chief event of the reign of Henry the Eighth? continued Miss Thompson, quite unmoved by the display of suppressed excitement around her. There was no answer, so she repeated the question a little louder.
May I kill it, or would you rather do it yourself? said Madge eagerly. The three children had now shut their books and given up all pretence of interest in anything except the wasp, which was trying harder than ever to buzz right through the pane of glass.
Really nobody would suppose that you were twelve years old! said Miss Thompson, in a vain effort to make her eldest pupil ashamed of herself. Now then, open your history and see what was the most important event, if you can't remember.
But it'll get away if you don't squash it! shrieked John and Betty. They were twins, and perhaps for that reason always spoke together.
Do leave the poor creature alone! said Miss Thompson imploringly. It cannot hurt you if you sit still and attend to your lessons.
That's not what we are afraid of! cried Madge; it's the fruit! Don't you know a queen-wasp has millions of children before the summer is over, and we shan't have any fruit at all if you don't kill it!
No strawberries! No peaches! No nothing! echoed the twins with growing excitement. And it will be all your fault! But of course you don't care, as you never eat fruit. Papa won't like it though. He always kills—