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Mrs. Partington and Ike were huckleberrying in the
country, and a large swamp was wearily canvassed to
find the quart which she bore in her five-quart pail.
She despaired of filling it.

“Look here, aunt,” said Ike, in a sort of confidential
whisper, “look in there and see what a lot of 'em.”

There was a smile upon the face of the boy, that
betokened mischief, or it might have been a gleam of
satisfaction at the prospect of filling the pail; but certainly
a smile was round the little mouth, and the eye caught
it, and a roguish twinkle like a sunbeam lay sparkling
there.

“I see!” said the old lady, and a moment later the
log-cabin bonnet, borrowed for the occasion, was seen
above the tops of the bushes, its restlessness indicating
its wearer's activity. Ike remained outside.

Fizz-z-z — Buzz-z-z! — what was that? — a humblebee,
as we are a sinner. Another and another. The log
cabin was besieged, and Mrs. Partington rushed frantically
from the bushes, swinging the tin pail and crying
“Shoo! shoo!” with all her might. It was a trying
time for the widow of Corporal Paul. And Ike did not
escape, for a big humblebee attacked him, and he roared
heartily with a sting upon his cheek. The laugh disappeared.

At the recital of their troubles at home, people

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regarded the matter as a trick of Ike's; but how could he
have known about the humblebee's nest being in there?
Mrs. Partington avowed that she “never was so frustrated
by anything in her born days,” and the people
believed her. She thinks, notwithstanding the bees, that
she would like to have a “villain” in the country, and
become an “amatory” farmer.