How they did eat! They began with pie. And Buster Bumblebee, flying lazily above their heads, noticed with amazement the enormous pieces that disappeared into the mouths of men, women and children. One mouthful such as they took would have fed him at least a month. And there was one boy called Bill who stowed away enough each time his fork traveled to his mouth to nourish Buster Bumblebee a whole summer.
"That boy is making a pig of himself!" Buster Bumblebee exclaimed, right out loud. But since nobody understood what he said, no one paid any attention to his remark. "You'll be ill, if you're not careful," Buster buzzed right in the greedy boy's ear.
But the youngster known as Bill only moved his head slightly. And to Buster's alarm he continued to bolt huge mouthfuls of everything within his reach.
It was really a terrible sight. Buster Bumblebee was so fascinated by it that he sat right down on a low-hanging maple bough and kept his eyes fixed on that marvellous boy.
Before the feast came to an end the boy Bill's face underwent an odd change. In the beginning it had worn a wide smile. But at last Buster saw a look of pain steal over Bill's somewhat besmeared features. And beneath his coating of tan he seemed to have grown pale.
Before long Buster was sure he heard a groan, though no one of the merrymakers paid the slightest heed to it. Everyone was too busy eating and talking with his neighbors to notice Bill's distress.
Then came another groan—and another—and another—and another, until finally greedy Bill clapped both his hands across the front of his jacket and let out a terrific roar.
"Ah!" said Buster Bumblebee. "You have a stomachache, young man. And it's no wonder."