own, silent, somewhat bent forward in his seat, driving his
horse with circumspection, a Dr. Jekyll of propriety; and a few hours
later he would come homeward a wholly different person, straight of
back, joyous of mien, singing his songs in his high clear voice, a very
Hyde of recklessness. Even the old horse seemed changed: he held his
head higher and stepped with a quicker pace. When the bee-man went
toward town he never paused, nor once looked around to see me in my
field; but when he came back he watched for me, and when I responded to
his bow he would sometimes stop and reply to my greeting.

One day he came from town on foot and when he saw me, even though I was
some distance away, he approached the fence and took off his hat, and
held out his hand. I walked over toward him. I saw his full face for the
first time: a rather handsome face. The hair was thin and curly, the
forehead generous and smooth; but the chin was small. His face was
slightly flushed and his eyes--his eyes _burned_! I shook his hand.

"I had hoped," I said, "that you would stop sometime as you went by."

"Well, I've wanted to stop--but I'm a busy man. I have important matters
in hand almost all the time."

"You usually drive."

"Yes, ordinarily I drive. I do not use a team, but I have in view a fine
span of roadsters. One of these days you will see me going by your farm
in style. My wife and I both enjoy driving."

I wish I could here convey the tone of buoyancy with which he said these
words. There was a largeness and confidence in them that carried me
away. He told me that he was now "working with the experts"--those were
his words--and that he would soon begin building a house that would
astonish the country. Upon this he turned abruptly away, but came back
and with fine courtesy shook my hand.

"You see," he said, "I am a busy man, Mr. Grayson--and a happy man."

So he set off down the road, and as he passed my house he began singing
again in his high voice. I walked away with a feeling of wonder, not
unmixed with sorrow. It was a strange case!

Gradually I became really acquainted with the bee-man, at first with the
exuberant, confident, imaginative, home-going bee-man; far more slowly
with the shy, reserved, townward-bound bee-man. It was quite an
adventure, my first talk with the shy bee-man. I was driving home; I met
him near the lower bridge. I cudgeled my brain to think of some way to
get at him. As he passed, I leaned out and