If the summers in Pleasant Valley had been longer perhaps the honey-makers in Buster Bumblebee's home would have taken a holiday now and then. But they knew that every day that passed brought cold weather that much the nearer. So they never once stopped working—except to sleep at night. And, like Farmer Green himself, they felt that they must not waste any of the precious daylight by lying abed late in the morning. They wanted to be up and in the clover field as soon as it was light.

Now, with Rusty Wren living right beneath his bedroom window to wake him at dawn, Farmer Green had no trouble in getting up in good season. But the Bumblebee family were in no such luck. Even if Rusty Wren had lived near them in the meadow they could scarcely have heard his dawn song, because their home was beneath the surface of the ground, in the old house that had once belonged to Mrs. Field Mouse.

If they could have found an alarm clock somewhere it would have been easy for them to rise as early in the morning as they wished. But lacking a clock of that kind—or any other—they had to find a different way of waking themselves.

That was why the workers chose one of their number to be a trumpeter. And it was her duty to get up bright and early, at three or four o'clock, and trumpet loudly to rouse all the other workers.

How the trumpeter herself managed to awake is something that never bothered anybody else. It was her business not to oversleep. And she knew that it would be very unpleasant for her if she failed even once to do her duty.

Now, it was all well enough for the workers to have the morning silence broken by the blare of trumpeting. They were eager to get up and begin their day's work. But Buster Bumblebee did not like that arrangement in the least. He preferred a good, long night's sleep. And since he never did any work he thought it was a shame that he should be rudely awakened in such a fashion.

At home, however, he did not mention his grievance to anyone. But he talked the matter over with a number of his friends—outside the family. And one and all agreed that something ought to be done to put a stop to the trumpeter's noise.

"Why don't you have a pleasant talk with her?" Chirpy Cricket suggested. "Perhaps she would be willing to trumpet a little more softly if she knew that she was disturbing you."

That plan did not quite suit Buster Bumblebee.

"It would be hard to have a pleasant talk with the trumpeter," he said. "She's quite likely to lose her temper. And she might sting me if she became angry enough."

"Then you must first put her in a good humor," Chirpy Cricket told him cheerfully. "Begin by saying what a good trumpeter she is and tell her that her hat is very becoming."

Still Buster Bumblebee was a bit doubtful of the outcome of the scheme. But at last he agreed to give it a trial. "Though I must say I feel quite nervous," he added. And all Chirpy Cricket's sprightly jokes failed to make Buster smile.