ncommon thing for children to brave the danger of being stung by
the bees, for the sake of capturing a nest and getting possession of
its treasures. For myself, I never was ambitious of getting renown by
such means as besieging a bumble-bee's nest.

I'll tell you what I did perform, though, once on a time, which was
closely connected with the race of insects I am speaking of. It is a
common tradition among country boys, that white-faced bumble-bees
never sting, and that you can take them in your hands with perfect
safety. This tradition may have truth at the bottom of it, or it may
not. I cannot tell, and I shall not stop to debate the question now.
It is certain that there is an insect, very much resembling the
bumble-bee, and of about the same size, who, nevertheless, is a very
different fellow. This is the chap that bores holes into dry wood, as
nicely as you can bore with a gimlet, on which account he is sometimes
called the borer. This insect does not sting. No thanks to him,
though, for not stinging. He has no instrument to sting with. For
aught I know, he may have ever so good a _will_ to sting; but he has
no _power_ to do so, any more than a grasshopper or a butterfly.

Well, I wanted to show some of the boys, one day, how smart I was. I
had an idea that I could teach them something, and at the same time
get the credit for a little bit of bravery.

"Do you see that saucy chap there," I asked, "on that clover blossom?"

"Yes," said one of the boys, "it is a bumble-bee." This time I must be
permitted to say the spelling of the word, because the boys in
pronouncing it, give the sound of the _b_, and I, as a historian,
must report their conversation faithfully.

"Well." I said, "what will you give me, if I'll take this fellow in my
hand."

It was intimated that nothing could be expected from the boys, but
that the bumble-bee would be likely to give me something which I would
remember, until "the cows came home." I don't know what period in the
future that intended to point to, but I know that was a common
expression among us all--one which we used, I suppose, without
stopping to think what it meant, or how it got into use.

"I dare do it," I said. I was as bold as a lion.

"You had better not," said the boys.

I did it, though. I caught the bumble-bee, and held him fast in my
hand. But if ever a poor fellow got handsomely and foolishly stung, I
was that unfortunate youth; and the worst of it was, that whil