The Bee-man now ran on and soon overtook the Languid Youth.
“You need not be in a hurry now,” said the latter, “for the rules of this institution don’t allow the creatures inside to come out of this opening, or to hang around it. If they did, they would frighten away visitors. They go in and out of holes in the upper part of the mountain.”
The two proceeded on their way.
“What are you going to do with that baby?” said the Languid Youth.
“I shall carry it along with me,” said the Bee-man, “as I go on with my search, and perhaps I may find its mother. If I do not, I shall give it to somebody in that little village yonder. Anything would be better than leaving it to be devoured by that horrid dragon.”
“Let me carry it, I feel quite strong enough now to carry a baby.”
“Thank you,” said the Bee-man; “but I can take it myself. I like to carry something, and I have now neither my hive nor my doublet.”
“It is very well that you had to leave them behind,” said the Youth, “for the bees would have stung the baby.”
“My bees never sting babies,” said the other.
“They probably never had a chance,” remarked his companion.