"They don't swallow them at a mouthful, I assure you. They seem rather to rasp them with the rough surface of their tongues, getting off a fine flour, which they swallow eagerly, together with the oil of the seed. I have nothing further to tell you about them just at present, except to say that these are not comfortable ants to meddle with, for they sting almost as sharply as a bee."
"Then I don't want nuffin at all to do with 'em," cried Willie; "cos I was stinged with a bee once, and I don't like bees."
"I am ever so much obliged, Uncle Ben," said Harry. "Come, Willie, let's go play now, for I know we've been a big bother."
"Maybe you has; I ain't," replied Willie, stolidly, as he followed his brother, leaving Uncle Ben with a very odd smile upon his face.
A ROYAL THIEF.
In the summer weather
Kindly, gen'rous Night
Flings upon the thirsting grass
Dew-drops cool and bright.
There they lie and sparkle
Till return of Day;
Then the Sun—a royal thief—
Steals them all away.