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Sometimes I nearly caught the cat, but he would be off again just as I made a spring to seize him, while all Aunt Sophia's tender appeals to "poor Buzzy then," "my poor pet then," fell upon ears that refused to hear her. "Oh how stupid I am!" I said to myself. "Oh, Buzzy, this is too bad to give me such a chase. Come here, sir, directly;" and I stooped down.
Buzzy could come out and play quietly, but Nap always got to be so excited, lolling out his tongue and yelping and barking with delight as he tore round after me, pretending to bite and worry me, and rolling over and over, and tumbling head over heels as he capered and bounded about.
He stretched his limbs tentatively. "No, there's nothing broken. I feel a bit buzzy in the head, that's all." He tried to lift himself up, but Ann pressed him back against her knees. "Don't move! Don't move!" she cried hastily. "Lie still for a few minutes. Are you sure sure you're not hurt?" "Bet you a tenner I'm not," he replied, with the ghost of a grin. "My head's clearing, too.
Buzzy was the largest striped tom-cat, I think, that I ever saw, and very much to my aunt's annoyance he became very fond of me, so much so that if he saw me going out in the garden he would leap off my aunt's lap, where she was very fond of nursing him, stroking his back, beginning with his head and ending by drawing his tail right through her hand; all of which Buzzy did not like, but he would lie there and swear, trying every now and then to get free, but only to be held down and softly whipped into submission.
Of course I got all these ideas from books, and great trouble I found myself in one day for playing at tiger-hunting in the garden at home with Buzzy, my aunt's great tabby tom-cat; and for pretending that Nap was a lion in the African desert. But I'll tell you that in a chapter to itself, for these matters had a good deal to do with the alteration in my mode of life.
There was a piercing shriek behind me, and I turned, bow in hand, to find myself face to face with my aunt. My aunt's cry brought out Uncle Joseph in a terrible state of excitement, and it was not until after a long chase and Buzzy was caught that she could be made to believe that he had not received a mortal wound.
Rosamond smiled a little, but it was not a very bright smile. 'I I thought you were thinking, auntie, she said, 'and p'raps you were tired. 'Just a scrap tired, I daresay, said Aunt Mattie, 'and yes I was thinking, but I shouldn't have forgotten you, my pet. Are you not tired? 'I don't know, auntie, the little girl replied. 'My head feels rather buzzy, I think.
As it was I had forgotten its very existence in the excitement of the chase. "This time, monster, thou shalt die," I cried, as I once more fired, making Buzzy leap into the path, and then out of sight amongst the cabbages. "Hurray! hurray!" I shouted, waving my crossbow above my head, "the monster is slain! the monster is slain!"
"To be sure, my boy," said uncle, thoughtfully; "I wonder whether your aunt would want Buzzy and Nap stuffed if they were to die?" "She'd be sure to; aunt is so fond of them," I said. "Why, uncle, I might be able to do it myself." "Think so?" he said thoughtfully. "Why, it would make her pleased, my boy."
In a day's watching I have seen only bumblebees gathering honey from these flowers, and I wonder about the fertilization which certainly requires that insects should go in and out at that open dragon mouth, not little chaps, but buzzy, fuzzy creatures that will brush off the pollen and carry it. I have no doubt about the bumblebees and the turtle-heads.
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