little bee's heart with melancholy.

Few our days on earth shall be,
Fast the moments flit;
First-class robbers such as we
Do not care a bit!

They were extraordinarily well armed and looked saucy, bold and
dangerous.

The song died away under the leaves of the coltsfoot. But some
mischief seemed to have been done there. A rough, hoarse voice
sounded, and the small leaves of a young dandelion were
energetically thrust aside. Maya saw a corpulent blue beetle
push its way out. It looked like a half-sphere of dark metal,
shimmering with lights of blue and green and occasional black.
It may have been two or even three times her size. Its hard
sheath looked as though nothing could destroy it, and its deep
voice positively frightened you.

The song of the soldiers, apparently, had roused him out of
sleep. He was cross. His hair was still rumpled, and he rubbed
the sleep out of his cunning little blue eyes.

"Make way, _I'm_ coming. Make way."

He seemed to think that people should step aside at the mere
announcement of his approach.

"Thank the Lord I'm not in his way," thought Maya, feeling very
safe in her high, swaying nook of concealment. Nevertheless her
heart went pit-a-pat, and she withdrew a little deeper into the
flower-bell.

The beetle moved with a clumsy lurch through the wet grass,
presenting a not exactly elegant appearance. Directly under
Maya's blossom was a withered leaf. Here he stopped, shoved the
leaf aside, and made a step backward. Maya saw a hole in the
ground.

"Well," she thought, all a-gog with curiosity, "the things there
_are_ in the world. I never thought of such a thing. Life's not
long enough for all there is to see."

She kept very quiet. The only sound was the soft pelting of the
rain. Then she heard the beetle calling down the hole:

"If you want to go hunting with me, you'll have to make up your
mind to get right up. It's already bright daylight." He was
feeling so very superior for having waked up first that it was
hard for him to be pleasant.

A few moments passed before the answer came. Then Maya heard a
thin, chirping voice rise out of the hole.

"For goodness' sake, do close the door up there. It's raining
in."

The beetle obeyed. He stood in an expectant attitude, his head
cocked a little to one side, and squinted through the crack.

"Please hurry," he grumbled.

Maya was tense with eagerness to see what sort of a creature
would come out of the h