“From the way he yelled I should say they stung him pretty hard,” Russ answered. “I’m glad they didn’t come our way.”
By this time they were some distance from their picnic ground, and no bees were buzzing around them.
“Do you think they were Farmer Joel’s bees?” asked Rose of Russ, as they walked on toward the house.
“I’m pretty sure of it,” was his reply. “No one else around here keeps honey bees.”
“Are there any other kinds of bees except honey bees?” Vi wanted to know.
“Oh, yes,” answered Rose. “Ask mother about them—or daddy.”
“What’s the matter, children, didn’t you have fun at your picnic?” Norah wanted to know, when the six little Bunkers came straggling back, some hours before she expected them. Farmer Joel and Mr. and Mrs. Bunker were still in town.
“Yes, we had some fun,” answered Rose. “But we had to come back to get more lunch,” for she had decided, as it was not yet late, they could go back to the woods.
“You want more lunch!” cried the good-natured cook. “Bless and save us, my dears! But if you ate all that, and want more—oh, I wouldn’t dare give it to you! Your mother wouldn’t like it. You’d get sick.”
“But we didn’t eat it!” cried Laddie.