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WAS ten, I suppose, and the pup and I were wandering across the dry stubble of prairie grass. I was picking my way cautiously in a vain endeavor to save my bare feet from the sharp ends of the dead weeds. The pup—young, curious, and unsophisticated—was making wide excursions in all directions, searing up flocks of quails or nosing in a gopher's hole. I was carrying a jug of water to the men in the hay field; the pup was intent on new experiences.

We had not gone far until we came upon a bumble bees' nest buried under the prairie sod. The bees were not in a good humor.

They were buzzing about petulantly, and, remembering former experiences, I veered to one side. The pup was fascinated. He showed interest, but with head erect he kept at first at a safe distance. Then, his curios-