in, as that would make
an ugly sore. "I've been stung several times before, and when it
swells up, and itches, then it's really bad. Let's go find a mud
puddle."

"What in the world for?" she asked curiously.

"Mud is the best thing for a bee sting when you can't get ammonia,"
Paul explained. "Just plaster some mud on, and it draws out the pain.
I don't know the theory, except that when a bee stings you he injects
some sort of acid poison under the skin. Mud and ammonia are
alkalies, and are opposed to acid, so the chemists say."

"Then I'll help you look for a mud puddle," she said.

There was considerable excitement now, for a number of the school
children had been stung, and one or two of the players.

"That's the idea--mud!" cried Sandy, as he saw what Paul was doing.
"Bring the children over here, Miss Arthur," he said to the pretty
school teacher, "and we'll help doctor 'em."

"Oh, thank you," she answered. "Here, children, over this way."

Soon a number of the little tots were gathered about her, and Ruth
and Alice, who offered to help doctor their stings. Miss Pennington
and Miss Dixon, who had come to watch the film being made, had, at
the first alarm, gone far enough off so that they were in no danger
of being stung.

The bees, in a big cloud, were flying slowly about the school, only a
comparatively few having entered the window to rout the pupils.
Suddenly Russ darted back into the building.

"What are you going to do?" asked Mr. Pertell, who was fretting over
the spoiling of the school scene film.

"I'm going to get my camera," he called back over his shoulder. "I'm
going to make a film of this. Look, there comes the bee man after his
swarm."

Across the field came running several men, and one of them carried a
dishpan on which he was vigorously beating with an iron spoon.

Another had a dinner bell which he clanged constantly.

"Great Scott!" cried Mr. Pertell, "What does all this mean?"

"They're trying to make the swarm settle, so they can put 'em back in
a hive," explained Sandy. "You see, a swarm of bees is valuable this
time of year. There's an old saying, 'a swarm of bees in May is worth
a load of hay; a swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon; but a
swarm in July ain't worth a fly.' That means a swarm in May will
make enough honey to be worth a load of hay, more or less, but in
July th' season is so far gone that th' bees won't make more than
enough for themselves durin' th'