"You don't understand," Buster tried to explain. "Being a Queen's son, I'm expected to wear my court costume every day."
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Ladybug retorted. "The sooner you get such silly notions out of your head, the better off you'll be. Everybody ought to work. Too much play is bad for folks."
Buster Bumblebee could feel himself flushing. The neighbors were not expected to address a Queen's son in that fashion.
"That's exactly the way you talk about Betsy Butterfly!" he exploded.
"Huh!" Mrs. Ladybug sniffed. "You are a worthless pair. Betsy Butterfly's wings—"
At this point Buster managed to interrupt her.
"Don't talk about wings, please!" he cried. "Who are you, to talk about wings?—when you haven't any yourself."
Mrs. Ladybug started; and she gave him a queer look. "What's that?" she inquired. "What's that? Say that again!"
"You haven't any wings."
"Ho!" she laughed. "You're mistaken. I have wings."