LITTLE LANCE-BEARERS 315 
Grandfather. “ When I was a boy, nothing 
tasted quite so good as bumblebee honey,—stolen 
sweets, you know,—and we used to lay all sorts 
of plans to get it. Finally we hit upon the 
scheme of trapping the little defenders in the 
water jug. It was lots of fun, but rather cruel, 
as I see it now. I wouldn’t think of doing it 
again, unless I were interested in the colony from 
a scientific standpoint.” 
“Of course, Grandfather, all that is under¬ 
stood,” admitted Tommy slyly. “ But go on and 
tell us about it. It sounds interesting.” 
“ It mas/' smiled Grandfather. “ I see it all 
as though it were but yesterday. We boys used 
to scout around and locate the bumblebee nests 
and suitable barricades and lookouts in the im¬ 
mediate vicinity; then when we judged the signs 
about right, we would sally forth with our jug 
half filled with water. This was stealthily placed 
invitingly within a few feet of the nest. Lots 
were drawn and the unlucky individual sent out 
to stir up the bumblebees by threshing the nest 
smartly with a bough freshly cut from the near¬ 
est tree. Of course, by the time the big boomers 
got into motion, we were all safely hidden, and 
there was nothing at all unusual on which to vent 
their ire but the inoffensive jug. Around and 
over it they went, muttering vindictively and 
beating the air with their wings, until an answer- 
