“What is a bee tree?� “How did he find them?� asked Patsy and Anne.
“Shuh, Miss Patsy! You-all know what a bee tree is. It’s a tree whar bees home an’ lay up honey.�
“Oh, yes! But how can you find it?� inquired Anne.
“My old man was a notable bee courser,� said Emma. “Dis here’s de way he done: He put some sirup on a chip an’ he took some flour——�
“Flour! What for?� interrupted Patsy.
“I’m a-tryin’ to tell you what for,� said Emma. “Well’m, he’d go wid dat chip, like out yander whar de bees is on dem white clover blooms; an’ thar he’d stand. Presen’ly de bees come an’ sip de sirup. Whiles a bee’s a-sippin’, Amos takes an’ dusts it wid de flour, and den he watches to see whichaway it goes. It flies ’long home, an’ den comes back to git more sirup, an’ Amos he takes noticement how long it’s gone; dat gives him a sort o’ noration ’bout how fur off de tree is. Well, he follows Mr. Dusty-back fur as he c’n see it, an’ waits; an’ follows, an’ waits; takin’ de course twel he comes smang to de bee tree. An’ lawdy! de honey he got! We used to sell it, an’ give it ’way, an’ eat honey an’ honey cakes. Um-mm!�
She smacked her lips reminiscently.
“Oh, Patsy!� said Anne, and “Oh, Anne!� said Patsy; and then both together, “Let’s do it!�
“Let’s go right away!� said Anne.
Heat and fatigue were forgotten. They ran into the house, and Anne scooped up a handful of flour while Patsy was getting sirup out of a preserve jar. They did not have enough confidence in the amiability of the bees to put the sirup on a chip; instead, they took a long stick, and Patsy held it with some trepidation while Anne stood by with the flour.