ill be able to go on all the faster after a quiet rest, then I will go
with you."

Now Alice was really very tired indeed; and the bank with its cool
shade looked so tempting that at last she seated herself upon it,
letting her feet sink deep into its mossy side. She clasped the
precious pail tightly in her hands, but the noise inside grew louder,
and now it had an angry sound. "Oh, I wonder what it can be!" said
Alice.

"Do let me take the pail for a moment," said the boy drawing it gently
from her hand. "Now I will peep inside. What harm can it do? See, I
will lift the cover ever so gently." He put his eye to the crack, when
suddenly the cover slipped from his hand and rolled away upon the bank.
A great swarm of angry, buzzing creatures flew into his face. He
struck at them with his hands, but it was of no use. They stung and
stung him. "Alice! Alice!" he cried, "oh, I am stung! I am stung!"
The girl sprang quickly to help him but the angry bees flew at her also
and stung her tender hands and face until she cried out with the pain.
"Oh, what have we done! What have we done!" and, snatching the cover,
Alice tried to place it upon the pail again--but too late, for not a
single bee was left inside. For a little time the air was filled with
angry buzzing, but soon the bees flew far away into the wood and Alice
and her friend were left alone.

Smarting with pain the girl turned toward her home. Her little feet
moved wearily, and the empty pail hung loosely on her arm. That night
she cried herself to sleep in mother's arms, but the pretty red sash
was never worn by Alice, except sometimes in her dreams.

THE LOST COMB.

One day while Lesa was picking flowers in the wood the beautiful golden
comb that she always wore fell out of her hair and was lost. She
searched and she searched, but she could not find it. At last she
began to cry, and she cried and she cried.

Just then along came Rollicking Robin.

"Oh, do help me, Rollicking Robin!" sobbed Lesa. "I have lost my comb,
my golden comb. What shall I do? My mother will fret, my father will
scold, my little sister will cry, and some harm will surely come to me
if I do not find it."

"Cheer up, cheer up, cheer up! I'll go seek it." sang Rollicking
Robin, "I will find your golden comb, have no fear."

So he looked and he looked and he looked, but no comb could he find.

Just then along came Busy Bee.

"Oh, do help me, Busy Bee!" sobbed L