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And he never could understand why Buster Bumblebee's sisters, the ill-tempered workers, always gathered nectar for their honey-making in the daytime. "Everyone to his own taste!" Freddie sometimes said. "And I suppose that those who sleep from sunset to dawn don't know what they're missing."
"Another time the small Edison boy was investigating a bumblebee's nest in a field close to the fence. He was so interested in watching the bees that he didn't notice a cross old ram till it had butted in and sent him sprawling.
And he merely looked at the trumpeter sadly and said: "Don't speak to me like that! I'm a queen's son. I'm a gentleman." Buster Bumblebee's announcement that he was a queen's son and a gentleman seemed to amuse the trumpeter hugely. She held her sides and laughed uproariously. "That's nothing!" she said at last. "I'm one myself!" "One what?" Buster asked her quickly.
It was true, too, that the Bumblebee family filled their house almost to overflowing especially when they began to store away great quantities of honey in it. But they never seemed to mind being crowded. And if any of them wanted more room he had only to go out of doors and get it. Buster Bumblebee's mother was the head of the whole family. Everybody always spoke of her as "the Queen."
Warton makes Virgil sing; and Montaigne, in his "Journey to Italy," says: "The children very often are afraid, on account of the snakes, to go and pick the strawberries that grow in quantities on the mountains and among bushes." But there is no serpent here, at worst, only a bumblebee's or yellow-jacket's nest. You soon find out the spring in the corner of the field under the beechen tree.
And Betsy's admirers chose Daddy Longlegs to call on Buster Bumblebee and invite him to a party to be given in the meadow the following day. Daddy Longlegs agreed to do the errand, in spite of the fact that for him it was half a day's journey to the Bumblebee's home from the stone wall where he lived.
"Suppose you climb upon my back, Thumbkins, and let me help you find her!" said Billy Bumblebee, as he buzzed his wings, making the flower sway up and down. So Thumbkins climbed up the flower stalk and took a seat upon Billy Bumblebee's back. "Let us fly way up in the air so that we may look down over all the country!" said Billy Bumblebee, as he made his wings whirr and climbed high in the air.
That is, two of them found it necessary to lay their fiddles aside once in a while. And it was no wonder; for they had each eaten a whole custard pie. But the third fiddler was different. He was a man after Buster Bumblebee's own heart. He seemed to love to make music and never tired of coaxing the jolliest tunes out of his old fiddle that anybody could hope to hear.
If the truth were known, Joseph Bumble proved to be somewhat of a braggart. He was forever boasting of his connection with the Bumblebee family. And Betsy couldn't say anything to him without his remarking that his cousin Buster Bumblebee's mother, the well-known Queen, thought this or that. "And being of royal blood, the Queen ought to know what's what," he frequently said.
And although everybody said that Buster Bumblebee was a drone, he never seemed to mind it in the least. If the summers in Pleasant Valley had been longer perhaps the honey-makers in Buster Bumblebee's home would have taken a holiday now and then. But they knew that every day that passed brought cold weather that much the nearer. So they never once stopped working except to sleep at night.
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