I will not be an ant, to soil
Myself with low, debasing toil,
To crawl on earth—to yon bright heaven
No wing upraised, no effort given.
3.
But I will be a bee, to sup
Pure honey from each flow'ry cup;
Busy and pleased around I'll fly,
And treasure win from earth and sky
As she finished her song, Ellen, who now stood close beside her, though unperceived, took up the strain and warbled,
Busy and pleased around I'll fly,
And treasure win from earth and sky.
"Ah truant!" said Mary, with a smile, "you will not win much treasure, I am afraid. See how much I have done while you have been looking out for Uncle Villars, and all your looking has not brought him."
"No—but if I could only persuade you to take your eyes from your work and just give one glance over your shoulder, he would be here I know; try it, Mary."
"No, butterfly, I mean to be a bee, and you shall not tempt me to lose time."
"There, Miss Bee, is that losing time?" asked Ellen, as, putting a hand on each side of Mary's head, she turned it suddenly round to where Mr. Villars stood, amused by the scene.
"Why, Uncle Villars!" exclaimed Mary, dropping her work in her surprise and pleasure, and hastening to meet him, "how long have you been there?"