Johnnie's carelessness made the workers angry at once. And several of them rushed out and stung Johnnie Green severely.
Then he was angry. And he declared he would "fix them"—as soon as he could think of a good way to do it.
And that very afternoon, while he was bringing the heavy jug from the spring, Johnnie Green thought of a fine plan for punishing the Bumblebee family. He liked his plan so well that he could hardly wait to try it; and he went back to the hayfield almost at a run, whereas he usually sauntered along so slowly that his father often had to speak to him somewhat sharply.
But this time Farmer Green could not complain. Johnnie even brought the jug—and the tin cup too—to the knoll in the meadow where his father and the hired man were working. And then Farmer Green said:
"How are your stings now?"
"Awful!" Johnnie informed him hopefully.
"Maybe you'd like to stop work for the rest of the day and go swimming," said Farmer Green, with a wink at the hired man, "unless you're feeling too miserable," he added.
"Oh, yes! Oh, no!" cried Johnnie. "My stings aren't too bad for that!" And he started off at once across the field, taking the jug with him.
"I'll leave the jug among the brakes in the fence-corner," he called, as he trotted away.
Now, Johnnie Green took the jug with him because he needed it. It was part of his plan for punishing the Bumblebee family. And instead of going straight to the fence-corner, Johnnie made at once for the Bumblebee family's front door. As soon as he reached it he poured some of the water out of the jug—but not all of it. Then he put his ear to the jug's mouth and listened. And he smiled happily—in spite of his stings—as he heard the roar from inside it.