examined, when it turned
out that Billy had got into trouble with a nest of bumble-bees. He had
discovered a nest of these wretches, it appears; and, the temptation
to wage war against them being very strong, he had stopped a moment,
just to take up the nest.

Poor fellow! It proved to be a _taking in_, instead of a _taking up_,
and the taking in was on the other side. When he saw that the
bumble-bees had outwitted him, he snatched up the bottle, which he had
thrown down, and which was lying near, and ran, as fast as his legs
would let him, towards the place where the men were at work. But the
bees flew faster than he could run. It was a comic scene enough to see
the fellow running at the top of his speed, and some fifty bumble-bees
after him, once in a while giving expression to their feelings, by
saluting him, in their peculiar way, in the face and on the neck.
Didn't the poor fellow scream?

[Illustration: PAYING FOR MISCHIEF.]

But this was not the whole of the joke. Indeed, it was hardly the
richest part of it. Mr. Marble, who saw what was going on, stood ready
with his cart whip; and when Billy made his appearance, with a
regiment of bumble-bees about his ears, he commenced beating him with
the whip. Away ran the boy, and Mr. Marble chased him some half a
dozen rods, and gave him about as many blows with the cart whip.

"There, you young rogue!" said Mr. Marble, as he turned to go back to
his work again, "between me and the bumble-bees, I guess you have
learned one good lesson thoroughly this afternoon. You will be a wiser
boy, I think, after this. You will be a _smarter_ one, I'm sure; at
least, for a while."

CHAP. IX.

HOW A BARN WAS BUILT.

Mike Marble, as I think I have said before, was a kind-hearted man.
But he had his own way of doing every thing, and that way was very
generally quite unlike most other people's way. No man ever liked
better to do any body a good turn. But he had his crotchets about an
act of charity, as well as about every thing else.

A neighbor went to him once, to ask him for some money to aid him in
building a barn. The old one had burned down, and it was a great loss
to him, he said. He hardly knew how he should get along, unless his
neighbor loaned him a little money.

But Uncle Mike refused the neighbor's petition. "Money was scarce,
very scarce." That was all the answer the unfortunate man could get
from Mike Marble.

"This is strange enough," he mused in