I'm tired of working," said the little
Honey Bee. "Guess I'll just roam around and see
what I can find."
So, with these words the little Bee, who
had been busy making honey like the other
bees, left the pleasant work of taking the sweet liquid
from the flowers that called her with lovely
smells and pretty colors, and went deeper into the dark
woods.
Under the big green leaf was a little
yellow Buttercup so the Bee stopped and chatted a
while with her. Her merry round face welcomed the Bee and
the Buttercup asked why the Bee
was not working this fine day.
"Oh, I'm tired out. I think I need a
rest," she replied.
"That is too bad; you should rest when
you are tired, all right. Don't wander away too
far though as there are many strange plants in these
woods. I often hear the insects talking about
loved ones who have become lost. There is one big plant
that really looks pretty but it is very
bad."
"What does it look like?" asked the
Bee.
"It is sort of brownish green and
has very many large sharp teeth and an awfully big
mouth and nose . It seems like it is never, never filled
up, always hungry. It doesn't smell nice like
flowers either, so if you can't smell anything sweet, be
careful; it may be the bad flower," warned
the Buttercup.
"I'll be careful and I'm not going to
stay long anyway. Just roam about a little," said
the Bee as she flew away.
First she lit among some cool ferns.
Their fine feathery leaves made her think of
lace. She sat on the fern and swung back and forth, just
like boys and girls in a swing do. The
gentle breeze made her nice and cool and made the fern
move so the tired little Bee didn't have to
work hard to swing. She felt so rested and happy that she
fell asleep in her swing.
She slept for some time and when she
awoke the rain had started to fall and in vain
she looked for her sister bees but they were gone. She
became afraid and flew here and there and
when she was too tired to fly any more she lit on the
nicest, smoothest big leaf that gave her
shelter from the rain. Her wings were a little damp so
she just stood there for a minute and
whirred them until they got dry.
"I might just as well look around a
bit until it stops raining," she said. "My, my, this
is a funny flower. It doesn't smell very nice either."
Of course, she had come across many
that didn't smell nice so this one did not
worry her. Long ago she had forgotten the warning from
the little yellow Buttercup.
"What funny long sharp teeth it
has, and oh, my, how far down its throat I can see.
Wonder what is down at the bottom? I guess I'll go and
see," cried the Bee.
Very slowly she walked to the edge
of the flower where the long teeth were and
again peered deep down. She saw something small moving
way down there and as it was a little
dark in the woods she couldn't tell what it was at first.
She looked a long time and finally made
out a Red Ant. He was trying to say something to her but
she couldn't hear him, his voice was too
weak.
"What did you say ?" she called.
"Mmmm mmmm" was all she could make
out.
"Call louder, I can't hear you,"
she cried once again.
Very feebly came the voice from way
down there beyond the sharp long teeth.
"Go away. Don't come any nearer or
you won't be able to get out. I will never be in
the sun again nor walk with my brothers and sisters. I
was tired of working so ran away yesterday
and came in here to see what I could find. Now I can't
get out."
"Oh, you poor little thing," cried
the Bee.
Then, suddenly she knew—it was
the big bad flower that took you and never let
you go again if you got beyond its long teeth. With a
little jump she landed on the outer edge very
much afraid, and began to cry.
"Why did I go away? I'll never
leave my sister workers again. I would rather be
busy anyway. When I'm idle I get into trouble. Oh dear,
I wish I could find Queen Bee;" she
wailed.
She sat there for a long time
until the sun came out again and the light became
brighter. Soon she heard the buzz of the bees while they
carried the sweet liquid from the flowers
to make honey. She called once more to the poor Red Ant
but he was very still now and could not
talk, so with a little tear in her eye for him, who, like
herself, had not wanted to work, she flew
back to the bees and was happy to do her part until the
sun sank behind the trees and the flowers
whispered. "Good-night."
In her prayers that night she
remembered the poor little Red Ant who would
work no more and said she would be sure to go back and
thank the little yellow Buttercup for
telling her about the big, bad flower that kept bees and
ants that didn't want to work or help their
brothers and sisters.
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