“O, no,” said Henry; “he’ll fly up and sting me.”
“No, he won’t,” said Rollo. “I only want you to keep him in a minute, while I go and get a plug.”
Henry then, with much hesitation and fear, put his thumb over the hole, as Rollo withdrew the flower. He stood there while Rollo went for a plug; but he seemed to feel very uneasy, and continually called Rollo to be quick.
Rollo could not find a plug, but he picked up a small, flat stone, and concluded that that would do just as well. So he released Henry from his dangerous position, and put the stone over the hole.
“There,” said Rollo, with a tone of great satisfaction, when he had done this, “now he is safe. We’ll let him stay, while we go and catch another bee.”
So they went back to the hollyhocks, and there, quite fortunately, they found another bee just going into one of the flowers. Rollo secured him in the same way, and carried him along, and pushed him into the flower-pot. Henry stood ready to clap the stone on, as soon as he was in, and then they came back to the hollyhocks again. They had then to wait a little while, watching for bees; at length, however, one came, and, by and by, another; and so, in the course of an hour or two, they got seven bees, all safe in the honey-pot, and Rollo said he thought seven were about enough to go to work, at least, to begin. They had not yet found any one, however, that seemed to Rollo to be a queen bee.
At last, it was time for Henry to go home, and Rollo concluded to leave his bee-hive until the next morning. He thought he would leave the hole stopped up, so that the bees might get used to their new accommodations; but he intended to open it the next day, in order to let them begin their work.
The next morning, Henry came over soon after breakfast to see how affairs stood in respect to the bee-hive. He and Rollo went out into the garden to look at the establishment, and found every thing as they had left it the night before. Rollo felt quite confident of the success of his experiment. The only thing that gave him any uneasiness was the want of a queen bee. He and Henry were just speculating upon the expediency of sending in a bumble-bee instead, for a king, when their attention was arrested by hearing Jonas calling Rollo. They looked up, and saw him standing at the garden gate.
“Rollo,” said Jonas, “do you want to go out with me to the pasture, and catch the horse?”
“Why,—yes,” said Rollo. But yet he did not go. He seemed to feel in doubt. “Must you go this minute?” said he.