ls, curiously carved from the
hulls of beech-nuts; and beautiful curtains, of the leaves of the silver
poplar. The floor was paved with the seeds of the wild grape, and
beautifully carpeted with the lichens from the beech and maple trees. The
beds were made of a great variety of mosses, woven together with the
utmost delicacy of workmanship. There was a bath-tub made of a
mussel-shell, cut into beautiful cameo figures.

"How wonderful!" cried Simon, clapping his hands.

"The Garulies work together!" said the old man, more decidedly than
before.

Simon noticed that his own voice was beginning to squeak like that of the
old Garuly himself. But after seeing the interior of his dwelling, he
would not have minded being changed into a Garuly.

The old man was now leading him out through a different entrance. Then
along a path they went until they came to a fence, the rails of which
seemed to Simon to be larger than logs. They crawled through the fence,
and found themselves in a farm-yard. The chickens seemed to be larger
than those great creatures that geologists say once lived on the earth,
and that were as high as a house. Presently they came to a bee-stand. The
bees seemed to Simon to be of immense size, and he was greatly afraid;
but the old Garuly spoke to the fierce-looking sentinel bee that stood by
the door and shook one of his antennae in a friendly way.

("His Aunt Annie?" said Chicken Little. "What do you mean?"

"His antennae are his feelers, the little hair-like things that stand out
from his head.")

Now the bees seemed to know the Garuly, and so they let him pass in. But
poor Simon had to be pounded down again before he was small enough to go
in. When he got in, he saw a world of beauty. Being so small himself, and
so near to the bees, he could see how beautiful their eyes were, made up
of hundreds of little eyes, with little hairs growing out between them.
And then, too, the honey-comb seemed like great, golden wells, full of
honey. Each well seemed as large as a barrel. They climbed up along the
sides of the combs, and saw some bees feeding the young, some building
cells, some bringing in honey, some feeding the queen bee, some clearing
out the waste matter, and others standing guard. They all seemed
cheerful.

"Bees all work together!" piped the old man. "No bee is selfish. These
bees will not live to eat this honey. Bees that work hard in summer only
live to be about two months old. This honey is s