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The Keeper of the Bees

Nebuchadnezzar, get on your belly and eat grass! Eat dirt, for all I care! Then you can start inchin’! You can start inchin’ along like a poor inch worm! Head for me and I’ll juice you up enough that they’ll not get you! Turn the hose on my friends, I guess not! Hold your nose! It’s going to snow!”

Full force the hose struck the miserable object grovelling on the ground, struck her, played over her and knocked a few bees that were flying low out of the way. A pitiful creature came crawling up the mountain, gasping for breath, one eye slowly closing, the pain of three stings on the head almost unbearable torture, bees by the thousand roaring above her. Slowly the little Scout backed up the mountain, dragging the twisting hose, pausing every few seconds to play it again on the victim. By and by, sufficient distance was reached to permit an armistice.

“Now you stop right where you are!” commanded the Scout Master, with a deft twirl cutting down the water. “Stop right where you are!”

“No!” cried the girl, struggling to her knees. “I’ll not stop where I am! I’ll get you and I’ll wring the head right off of your neck. You little Devil! You vile little Devil!”

Flip went the nozzle, spang came the water squarely on the girl’s head and shoulders. Down she went.

“So that’s how you feel about it? That’s the way you thank me for savin’ you, all lyin’ and stealin’ like you are! You didn’t know I could magic bees, did you? You didn’t