"He's a bumblebee!" one of them exclaimed. And the other echoed immediately, "He's a bumblebee!" Being twins, and looking just alike, they always tried to do and say the same things.
Johnnie Green did not tell them their mistake. With an odd smile he slid aside one of the glass doors of the Carpenter's prison and picked the frightened captive up with his fingers.
"Oh!" cried the two guests. "Won't he sting you?"
"Naw!" said Johnnie Green scornfully. "He won't sting me. He knows me."
For a few minutes the two city boys—for that is what they were—for a few minutes they watched Johnnie Green expectantly. They seemed to be waiting for something. And they were. They were waiting for Johnnie Green to be stung.
But nothing of the sort happened. And soon one of them said:
"I wish I had a pet bumblebee."
"So do I!" said the other twin.
"Do you?" asked Johnnie Green. "Well,—I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you each a honey box. And maybe you can catch some bumblebees, if you want to."
Of course, the twins were delighted. And Johnnie Green appeared pleased too. Perhaps he should have told his little friends that his pet was not a bumblebee at all—but a carpenter bee—and that carpenter bees never sting people.