But all was quiet again in the cottage, Johnny occupied with his supper, and Polly with her curl-papers, when in through the open door who should make her entrance but Stickasting. She came in, as usual, in no amiable mood, quite ready to take offence on the very shortest notice. She first settled on the little baby’s arm; but the infant lay perfectly still, half-comforted in his troubles by sucking his thumb: the most passionate bee in the world could find no excuse for being angry with him. Stickasting rested for a few moments on the thin, tiny arm, then rose and approached Polly Bright.
Every sensible person knows that when a bee or a wasp hovers near, the safest way is to keep quiet and take no notice; but Polly was not a very sensible person, and being not very courageous either, was quite frightened when the insect touched her face. If Stickasting had mistaken it for a flower, she would very soon have found out her blunder, and left the little girl in peace; but, starting back with a cry, Polly struck the bee, and Stickasting, roused to fury, quickly returned the blow. Mad with passion, the insect struck her sting so deep, that it was impossible to withdraw it again, and she left it behind, which occasions certain death to a bee.
Stickasting felt at once that she had thrown away her life in a wild desire for revenge; that her destruction was caused by her own violent act—she crawled feebly a few inches from the spot where she fell, and expired—a victim to her temper.
Loud was the scream which Polly Bright uttered on being stung; so loud that it brought, from the opposite cottage, both Minnie Wingfield and her brother. On finding out the cause of Polly’s distress, Minnie hastily ran back for the blue-bag, or a little honey, to relieve the pain of her school-fellow. But Tom, who had very little pity in his nature, stood shaking with laughter at the adventure.
POOR STICKASTING.
“Stung by a bee!—stung on the very tip of the nose!—what a beauty you will look at Greenhill to-night!—ha! ha! ha!—if you could only see how funny you look, your hair half in curl-papers, and half hanging down, and your eyes as red with crying as the coral round your neck! You are for all the world like silly Sally!”
TOM LAUGHING AT POLLY.