to now?" said Mr. Judkins, in an assumed
tone of querulous displeasure, as he bent over the boy from behind and
gently tweaked his ear.

"Oh, here, mister!" said the boy, without looking up; "you thist let
up on that, will you!"

"What you got there, I tell you!" continued the smiling Mr. Judkins,
in a still gruffer tone, relinquishing the boy's ear, and gazing down
upon the fluffy towhead with more than ordinary admiration. "What you
got there?"

"Bugs," said the boy--"you know!"

"Dead, are they?" said Mr. Judkins.

"Some of 'em's dead," said the boy, carefully running a needle through
the back of a large bumblebee. "All these uns is, you kin bet! You
don't think a feller 'ud try to string a live bumblebee, I reckon?"

"Well, no, 'Squire," said Mr. Judkins, airily, addressing the boy by
one of the dozen nicknames he had given him; "not a live bumblebee--a
real stem-winder, of course not. But what in the name o' limpin'
Lazarus air you stringin' 'em fer?"

"Got a live snake-feeder," said the boy, ignoring the parental
inquiry. "See him down there in the bottom, 'ith all th' other uns on
top of him. Thist watch him now, an' you kin see him pant. I kin. Yes,
an' I got a beetle 'at's purt' nigh alive, too--on'y he can't pull in
his other wings. See 'em?" continued the boy, with growing enthusiasm,
twirling the big-mouthed bottle like a kaleidoscope. "Hate beetles!
'cause they allus act so big, an' make s'much fuss about theirselves,
an' don't know nothin' neither! Bet ef I had as many wings as a beetle
I wouldn't let no boy my size knock the stuffin' out o' me with no
bunch o' weeds, like I done him!"

"Howd'ye know you wouldn't?" said Mr. Judkins, austerely, biting his
nails and winking archly to himself.

"W'y, I know I wouldn't," said the boy, "'cause I'd keep up in the air
where I could fly, an' wouldn't come low down ut all--bumpin' around
'mongst them bushes, an' buzzin' against things, an' buttin' my brains
out a-tryin' to git thue fence cracks."

"'Spect you'd ruther be a snake-feeder, wouldn't you, Bud?" said Mr.
Judkins suggestively. "Snake-feeders has got about enough wings to
suit you, ef you want more'n one pair, and ever' day's a picnic with a
snake-feeder, you know. Nothin' to do but jes' loaf up and down the
crick, and roost on reeds and cat-tails, er fool around a feller's
fish-line and light on the cork and bob up and down with it till she
goes clean under, don't you know?"

"Don't want to