hen, flinging his arms over his head, rush madly
back the way he had just come.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Willie Jones shouted, hopping up and down in the intensity
of his enjoyment. "Margery, do you see him? The bees are after him!
Jiminy! Jiminy! _Jiminy!_"
Willie Jones lay down on the ground and rolled and kicked and plucked up
handfuls of grass in an effort to work off the exuberance of his joy.
"Oh!" he gasped weakly, as the humor of the situation finally expended
itself. "Isn't that the funniest thing you ever saw?"
[Illustration: "Margery, do you see him? The bees are after him!"]
As Margery made no answer, he turned, suddenly conscious that from the
start she had not been sharing his transports.
"Why, what's the matter, Margery?"
There was a pained expression on Margery's face and she was panting.
[Illustration]
"I'm stung," she murmured.
Willie Jones did not have to ask "Where?" for the middle finger of one
hand was already standing straight out, swollen and red.
"I'm awfully sorry, Margery, honest I am. Put some mud on it. That'll
help some."
"I don't see any mud," Margery panted, looking hopelessly over the green
meadow.
"Can't we make some quick enough?" Willie asked, digging his heel into
the turf. "Now, Margery, spit on this. . . . Aw, that's not enough.
Watch me."
By their united efforts they succeeded in mixing a mud plaster large
enough to cover the wound.
"There now, does that feel better?"
"I don't know, Willie. Maybe it does. But do you know--do you
know--I--I think I'm getting sick."
"Oh, no, you're not. You just think you are. Brace up now and you'll
feel all right." Then, by way of changing the subject and giving praise
where praise was due, he added: "That was dandy of you not dropping any
berries when the bees chased us. There are not quite two quarts, but
don't you care. I think my mother'll count them for two."
But Margery was not to be diverted.
"Oh, Willie," she groaned, "I feel awful sick! Oh, if I could only
thr'up!"
"Well, thr'up if you want to," Willie advised. "There's no one around
here, and I won't look, honest I won't."
Margery shook her head sadly.
"I can't do it alone. I got to have hot water and things. Come on. We
better go home or I think I'll die. Oh, if my head just didn't ache so!
Maybe you better lend me your cap, Willie. Thanks. I suppose that'll
help my head some, but I don't believe it will. Oh, Willie, do you know
what I wish?"
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