Page:The Keeper of the Bees.pdf/95

 bees first. They’re a lot decenter than the Germans. I ain’t much of a whistler, but I whistled ‘Highland Mary’ the best I could, and I went along, soft and easy, and I ain’t right sure but I carried the last lily in my hands, and keeping serene—around bees you just naturally got to keep serene; no rough stuff goes, but I wasn’t oozin’ certainty so’s you could notice it—I stopped by the door of every last Italian and they never done a thing to me. So the Master was right. I took my medicine because my scent was wrong. So I rubbed up the lily a little when I headed for the Black Germans and I went and stood in front of them and counted ten. Then I double dared ’em to come on and sting me. They sort of fussed around a little and two of ’em came pretty close, but when they got the flowers strong, they went away again. Any way, I faced ’em down. And when I went back to the Bee Master, he took me up in his arms and he said he wished to God he’d lived to see the day when his little Mary would’ve showed spirit like that, and he hugged me so tight he nearly cracked every bone in my body, and he gave me the first kiss I ever got off him. And I ain’t had half a dozen since. Believe you me, he’s no necker! And he said that I could be his partner and help him about keeping the bees. Let me tell you, you’ll get on your uppers and you’ll do something worth while, you’ll stir your think-tank posolutely to the bottom, before the Bee Master comes across! His coat’s hanging on the back porch and there’s flowers a-plenty here in the garden. Any time you want to find out how the bees feel about