Miss Gardener thanked her. They flew to the Bee City entrance gate, and her new friend disappeared within.
Miss Gardener just poked her head inside to see how it seemed, when all the guard bees started toward her, and the foremost one stung her and stung her until—she woke up shrieking, to find that there was a hive of bees swarming on the tree just over her head.
“Oh,” cried Mary Frances, “did they sting her?”
“No, not really,” said Billy; “it was only a dream, but somehow the fact that the bees were swarming there must have made her dream of the stinging.”
“Well, I just believe Miss Gardener never had to study the lesson about the bees,” said Mary Frances. “I imagine her wonderful dream taught her.”
“But she was always sorry, she said, that she did not get inside the hive in her dream,” replied Billy.
“What wonderful little creatures bees are!” exclaimed Mary Frances. “When people sell honey, do they steal it from the bees?”
“Yes, practically that,” said Billy; “yet it is not a serious theft, for the bees generally store up much more honey than is needed, and the bee keeper always leaves enough for them to use.”
“Billy, wouldn’t it be lovely to have a hive?”[E] said Mary Frances.