branch, all I can tell you is that they never found it in the park and
that they never ran away again.

THE RACCOON AND THE BEES

[Illustration: THE RACCOON WATCHES THE BOYS]

A raccoon was dozing, perched up in a big tree one fine, bright summer
day. He lay on a broad limb high up in the tree. There was a fresh
breeze stirring, and he swayed to and fro with the branches.

He had been rocking on this lofty perch for some time, with his eyes
half closed, when he was roused by the shouting of some small,
bare-footed boys who were playing in a hayfield close by. Coonie, as he
was called for short, after yawning and stretching for some minutes,
finally shifted his position so as to see the boys. He had watched them
often from the top of a tree, and he always enjoyed the fun, because
they did such queer things.

It was some minutes before he could find out what they were doing, but
at last he discovered that they had found a bumble-bees' nest. They had
long paddles in their hands and were running around, yelling, and waving
the paddles frantically. Occasionally one of the boys screamed, and then
several of the others would run toward him, all beating the air with
their paddles.

Coonie watched very closely and saw one boy run up to the hive, give it
a quick poke, and then scamper away. With every poke at the hive, a
number of bees would fly out of the opening and sail away on the air.

Finally a small boy approached the hive and gave it a hard poke.
Instantly about a dozen bees swarmed out, and the boy started to run. He
had gone but half a dozen feet, however, when he tripped and fell, and
by the way he rolled and kicked, it was plain to be seen that the bees
were getting the better of him.

It was great fun watching them, and Coonie decided that he would get a
nearer view, so he crawled down the tree in a hurry and ran to the big
oak at the edge of the field. From there he could get a full view of the
battle. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the fun he was having
all by himself.

The battle between the boys and the bees was raging furiously by this
time. The boys charged time after time, and with each attack became
bolder and bolder, until finally Coonie saw that they were winning. The
plucky little bees fought bravely to defend their home, but the boys
were too strong for them, and one by one they fell and were crushed or
beaten to pieces with the paddles.

After two or three pokes at the hive