was tied,
That some were thoughtful to provide,
And off on poles, as best they could,
They bore the burden from the wood.
But trouble, as one may divine,
Occurred at points along the line.
'Twas bad enough on level ground,
Where, now and then, one exit found;
But when the Brownies lacked a road,
Or climbed the fences with their load,—
Then numbers of the prisoners there
Came trooping out to take the air,
And managed straight enough to fly
To keep excitement running high.
With branches broken off to suit,
And grass uplifted by the root,
In vain some daring Brownies tried
To brush the buzzing plagues aside.
Said one, whose features proved to all
That bees had paid his face a call:
"I'd rather dare the raging main
Than meddle with such things again."
"The noble voice," another cried,
"Of duty still must rule and guide,—
Or in the ditch the sun would see
The tumbled hive for all of me."
And when at last the fence they found
That girt the farmer's orchard 'round,
And laid the hive upon the stand,
There hardly was, in all the band,
A single Brownie who was free
From some reminders of the bee.
But thoughts of what a great surprise
Ere long would light the farmer's eyes
Soon drove away from every brain
The slightest thought of toil or pain.
