ter, by
and by, but big and queer. It stuck out so that I could see it. I heard
my uncle coming with the horses. I concluded that I would stay where I
was, but the dog came and sniffed and barked at the hole through which I
had crawled as if saying, "Here he is!" My position was untenable. I
came out. Shep began trying to clean my clothes with his tongue. Uncle
Peabody stood near with the horses. He looked at me. He stuck his finger
into the honey on my coat and smelt it.

"Well, by--" he stopped and came closer and asked.

"What's happened?"

"Bee stung me," I answered.

"Where did ye find so much honey that ye could go swimmin' in it?" he
asked.

I heard the door of the house open suddenly and the voice of Aunt Deel.

"Peabody! Peabody! come here quick," she called.

Uncle Peabody ran to the house, but I stayed out with the dog.

Through the open door I heard Aunt Deel saying: "I can't stan' it any
longer and I won't--not another day--ayes, I can't stan' it. That boy is
a reg'lar pest."

They came out on the veranda. Uncle Peabody said nothing, but I could
see that he couldn't stand it either. My brain was working fast.

"Come here, sir," Uncle Peabody called.

I knew it was serious, for he had never called me "sir" before. I went
slowly to the steps.

"My lord!" Aunt Deel exclaimed. "Look at that lip and the honey all over
him--ayes! I tell ye--I can't stan' it."

"Say, boy, is there anything on this place that you ain't tipped over?"
Uncle Peabody asked in a sorrowful tone. "Wouldn't ye like to tip the
house over?"

I was near breaking down in this answer:

"I went into the but'ry and that pan jumped on to me."

"Didn't you taste the honey?"

"No," I drew in my breath and shook my head.

"Liar, too!" said Aunt Deel. "I can't stan' it an' I won't."

Uncle Peabody was sorely tried, but he was keeping down his anger. His
voice trembled as he said:

"Boy, I guess you'll have to--"

Uncle Peabody stopped. He had been driven to the last ditch, but he had
not stepped over it. However, I knew what he had started to say and sat
down on the steps in great dejection. Shep followed, working at my coat
with his tongue.

I think that the sight of me must have touched the heart of Aunt Deel.

"Peabody Baynes, we mustn't be cruel," said she in a softer tone, and
then she brought a rag and began to assist Shep in the process of
cleaning my coat. "Good land! He's got to stay here--ayes!--he ain't got
no