164, THE JONATHAN PAPERS 



Our bee had gone and come twice before 

 Jonathan returned. &quot;Hasn t she brought 

 anybody yet? Well, here goes!&quot; He took a 

 slender stem of goldenrod, smeared it with 

 honey, and gently lodged a drop on the bee s 

 back, just where she could not by any possible 

 antics get it off for herself. When the little 

 thing flew she fairly reeled under her burden, 

 tumbled down on to a leaf, recovered herself, 

 and at last flew off on her old line. 



&quot;Now, let s go and cook luncheon,&quot; said 

 Jonathan, &quot;and leave her to work it out.&quot; 



&quot;But how can I move? I m a land 

 mark.&quot; 



&quot;Oh, leave your handkerchief. Anything 

 white will do.&quot; 



So I tied my handkerchief to a goldenrod 

 stalk, and we went back to the brook. We 

 made a fire on a flat stone, under which we 

 could hear the brook running, broiled our chops 

 on long, forked sticks, broiled some &quot;beef 

 steak&quot; mushrooms that we had found on a 

 chestnut stump, and ended with water from 

 the spring under the giant birch tree. Blue 

 jays came noisily to investigate us; a yellow- 

 hammer floated softly down to the branch 



