“Keep way fum dem bee hives, yer hyah?” admonished Phyllis from her old rocking chair under the cherry tree, where she alternately dozed and kept watch on the children playing around her in the yard.

“Mammy, the bees are all crawling out of the hive,” exclaimed Willis.

“Lawdy mussy, dem bees fixin’ ter swarm!” then raising her voice, “Zeek’l,—ah Zeek!—come quick, yer bees fixin’ ter swarm!”

Zeek came running up through the garden, with a tin pan and stick in hand calling, “Which way’d dey go?”

But the bees answered the question themselves, for at that moment they started in the direction of the garden. Zeek began to beat furiously upon the tin pan, while the children screamed in excitement as they beheld the bees hover a moment above Zeek’s head, then descend one and all upon his hat. Many straggling ones crawled about his face, one in its distraction landed upon his eyelid, closing the eye.

Zeek walked steadily without batting the open eye, until he reached an empty gum. There with the assistance of Phyllis, he carefully relieved his head of its dangerous burden.

“Whew!” he exclaimed, wiping the perspiration from his head, “dat’s de out-bangin’es’ hivin’ I ev’r done in all m’ life, an’ dat hive in dat ole gum ain’t wurth er cent,” he ended reflectively.“Howcum yer sayso?”

“Lawd, Phyllis,” he replied pushing his hat on the back of his head and folding his arms across his chest, “you’se he’rd er menny time dat

“‘De bees dat swarms in May,
Is wurth er load er hay,
De bees dat swarms in June
Is wurth er silv’r spoon;
Dem dat swarms in July
Ain’t wurth er house fly.’

An’ dem bees er swarmin’ hyah in Argus’ ain’ wurth nuthin’ but ter show you whut er bee-hiv’r I is.”

“Hit show pertic’ler you ain’ nuthin’ ter make honey out’n,” Phyllis laughed.

“I ain’ notice none uv ’em smackin’ der mouf’ ov’r you yerse’f, Sis’ Phyllis,” he retorted grinning.“Bees don’t eat people, Uncle Zeek,” Mary Van endeavored to explain, “they just sting them like hornets do.”

“Does dey, honey? Well, I boun’ none uv ’em ain’ gwine wase er sting on dat ole black bag er salt ov’r yond’r,” pointing at Phyllis.

“My Mammy’s not any old black salt either!” And Willis squeezed her around the neck.

“She’s er ole black nigg’r, dat’s whut she is,” teased Zeek.

“She’s not black!—and she’s not a nigger either!” and he began to kiss her face.

“Name er de Lawd, ef she ain’t er nigg’r, an’ she ain’ black, whut is she?” Zeek thoroughly enjoyed the little boy’s very evident discomfort.

“She’s my Mammy,—and she’s purty like my mama.” Willis was dangerously near tears, as he left Phyllis’s lap and made for Zeek. “I’ll hit you if you call my mammy a nigger.”

Mary Van had thrown an iron toy at him, whereupon Phyllis interfered.

“G’long an’ ’ten’ ter yer biznes’, Zeek,—I’m gwine call Miss Lucy ef you starts dese chillun ter cryin’.—Chillun, youall bring yer lit’le cheers yond’r an’ set hyah in front uv Mammy, an’ she’ll tell yer ’bout Miss Queen Bee an’ her fambly.”

“Mammy, what made Miss Queen Bee move out from her house just now?” Willis interposed.

“’Caze she wanter git erway f’um An’ Polly Parrit—she say she ti’ed An’ Polly pokin’ her nose in her biznes’.”

“Papa says she has to move ’cause her children take up all the room.” Willis gave this information with an air of knowing more on the subject.

“Dar now, yer hyah de preach’r, doan yer?” chuckling and looking with pride upon him.

“I speck you done outgrow’d dat confab Miss Queen Bee speak wid me too, ain’t yer?”

Willis did not entirely gather her meaning, but he replied:

“My papa says they won’t sting you if you don’t bother ’em.”

“Aha, yo’ pa tole de trufe—’cep’n sometimes. Bees is cur’us creeturs, I tell yer dey is. Dey ain’ nuthin’ but er passel er fokes wid wings on ’em. Ole Miss Queen Bee settin’ up dar, make ’em walk er chalk line, she do. She de law—she sho’ is. Ef she say fight,—dey fights. Ef she say, ax der pard’n,—dey axes hit. But,—” and she hesitated, rubbing her arm, “dey is sometimes whin bees gits jes’ like crazy fokes an’ loses all der senses.”

“That’s when they swarm, ain’t it, Mammy?” suggested Willis authoritatively.

“’Tain’t no sich er thing,—You done give out all de knowin’ you know’d ’bout bees. Set still an’ lis’n ter sumbody else,” reverting to her subject. “Dis time I’m talkin’ ’bout wus whin triberlashun ’pon triberlashun hap’n ter Miss Queen’s fokes.

“One day Miss Queen Bee’s chillun was gittin’ honey out’n de clov’r wid Miss Black Bee’s chilluns. De Bizzy Bees notice Miss Black Bee’s fokes doan seem ter be totin’ much honey back and furrards, but dey ain’ got no time ter confab, so dey doan say nuthin’. Bimeby, Miss Queen Bee see one de Black Bee fokes come in wid her chillun, an’ she notice he ain’ brung no honey in wid him, but she do notice dat he tak’n considerbul out wid ’im.”

“Mammy, my papa says they ain’t any little bees that don’t work except the drones,” corrected the little boy.

“Lemme tell yer sump’in, yo’ pa know mo’ ’bout pol’tics dan he do ’bout bees. ’Caze I knows whin bees starts ter stealin’, dey’s de bigges’ rogues in de woel. An’ dese black bees whut I’m talkin’ ’bout, wus scan’lus steal’rs, too. Bimeby, hyah come sum mo’, an’ mo’, tell Miss Queen holl’r out fur her fightin’ squad! Dem Bizzy Bee boys swarms quick whin dey heahs de war holl’r, an’ ’tain’ long ’fo’ de Bizzy Bees an’ de Black Bees wus er buzzin’ an’ er clippin’ at one nuth’r’s wings, tell de wings wus fallin’, ’round thick es gnats. I tell yer Miss Queen Bee’s chillun had er mouty hard fight ter keep der honey, but bimeby dey run all de Black Bees off ’cep’n dem whut dey kilt.”

“The Black Bees didn’t hurt any of Miss Queen’s children, did they?” asked Mary Van.

“’Cose some uv ’em got hurt’d, an’ some uv ’em wint so far es ter git kilt, but—”

“Wasn’t Miss Queen mighty sorry for ’em?” sympathized the little girl.

“She ain’ know nuthin’ ’bout hit, ’caze Miss Queen Bee’s chillun dat gits sick er hurted doan nuv’r come home. Nor, suh, dey g’long off an’ die by derse’f.”

“I don’t want ’em to go off. I want all of them to sleep with their mama till they get well;” Mary Van nudged the old woman’s knee, “make ’em go and tell their mama wherebouts they hurt.”

“No, mam, Miss Queen say she ain’ got no time ter nuss nobody, ’caze Mist’r Rattlesnake crawlin’ ’roun’ her gum right now, an’ she gittin’ pow’ful nervious. She know Mist’r Rattlesnake know how rich wid honey she is, an’ Rattlesnake know her boys comes home wid der pockits full ev’y trip. Ole Grab-All Spider know hit, too, an’ he crope up on de uth’r side er de gum ter ketch de Bee boys whin dey lights. Whin Miss Queen see Mist’r Rattlesnake an’ ole Grab-All Spider settin’ ’long side er her do’, she sen’ Buzzy Drone Bee ter tell de fightin’ squad ter git reddy ter fight ergin whin dey heahs de war holl’r.”

“Why didn’t she ask Mister Man to help her?” Willis stood up and leaned against her knee.

“Miss Queen ain’ gwine ax nobody ter hope her do nuthin’. She fixin’ ter have er set’lement herse’f, but jes’ es she fixin’ ter git reddy, Mist’r Rattlesnake an’ ole Grab-All Spider start ter gobblin’ de Bee boys es dey lights.”

“Please, Mammy, make ’em stop!” Mary Van was up tugging at Phyllis’ shoulder. “Quick, Mammy, before they eat any more!”

“Lawd, chillun, Miss Queen so mis’erbul ’bout dem chillun, she plum crazy by now—she tell her chillun ter light out fum dar an’ sting ev’y thing dey kin git on, an’ dey does hit, too, fer de Bizzy Bees allus tends to dey biznes’.”

“They stung old Grab-All and old Rattlesnake first, didn’t they?” Willis was half in her lap.

“No, suh, whin Grab-All an’ Rattlesnake seen de blood in Miss Queen’s eye, dey lit out fum dar, an’ de Bizzy Bees come down on Jack Donkey. Jack he had jump de fence an’ come up in de upper lot ter git er lit’le watermillon rine he seen by de back porch, an’ I tell yer he kick out consid’rble whin dem bees drap derse’fs on him. He tak’n out fur de stable ter git Brer Dur’am Cow ter rake de bees off’n him,—ev’y one Brer Dur’am rake, light on his own se’f an’ ’tain’ long ’fo’ him an’ Jack takes out fur Mist’r Man’s, an’ ax him fur de Lawd’s sake ter cl’ar ’em uv de bees. Mist’r Man’s old lady, an’ de lit’le boy come out ter see whut ail de beastes, an’ I tell yer de bees start dem ter holl’rin’ an’ dancin’,—An’ Polly Parrit, she come out ter git de news, an’ I tell yer de ole lady git in de hottes’ part er de fracus, too.”

“Did they sting Mister Man’s little boy much?” Mary Van pushed Willis, who was dancing all around Phyllis, out of her way. “Sit down, Willis.”

“Lawdee,” continued Phyllis, gently forcing the little boy into his chair again, “doan yer heah dat boy squallin’ right now? Dem bare legs er his’n right full er bees. Mist’r Man, he run an’ start ter smokin’ de bees, fas’ es he kin, an’ bimeby, atter er long time, de Bee boys goes back ter dey ma.”

“Mammy, you tell Miss Queen Bee to tell John Mocking Bird to eat old Grab-All up,” pleaded Mary Van, putting her arms around Phyllis’s neck.

“Ain’ I done tole yer Miss Queen ain’ gwine ax nobody fur nuthin’, an’ she ain’ gwine give nobody nuthin’ neether? She tell her chillun ter scuf’le hard an’ make er heap er honey, an’ den hit doan make no diffunce whut happ’n. One day, one er her boys come out uv er flow’r so full er honey dat he come blump on de groun’. Ev’y time he try ter fly, hyah he come back blump on de groun’ ergin. Nancy Hummin’ Bird tell him ter git up on her back an’ she’d give ’im er lif’. He crawl on Nancy’s back an’ she tuk ’im home. Whin Miss Queen seed him, she ax ’im how he got dar wid sich er load er honey. He tell his ma Nancy fotch ’im. Hoopee! she buzz on him I tell yer. Yas, suh! She say: ‘Yer go straight es you kin an’ pay fur dat ride.’”

“Did he pay five cents money, Mammy?” Willis rocked over backwards but was up before Phyllis could rise. “It didn’t hurt. Did she give him five cents, Mammy?”

“Nor, he give Miss Nancy some honey, whut she love good es de bees does, but Nancy got nuf mann’rs ter tell him she doan charge ’im, but Bizzy pay her enyhow, ’caze his ma done tole ’im dey ain’ keerin’ ter make no ’quaintance wid nobody ’cep’n wid flow’rs. Miss Queen say: ‘Hit’s all right ter mix up wid de flow’rs, ’caze dat’s biznes’, but de res’ er de woel kin g’long whar dey’s er mine ter.’ Miss Queen totin’ her haid pow’ful high dese days, ’caze dat gum’s full er honey an’ she ain’ owin’ nobody er cent. She say she ain’ got no use fur nuthin’ ’cepin’ biznes’. Dey g’long ter bed mouty biggity, an’ feelin’ pow’ful rich, but ’long in de night er bad old man come an’ take’n ev’r speck er honey in de gum. Miss Queen think she done dremp er nightmar’, but whin she git up in de mawnin’ sho’ nuf dey ain’ got er Lawd’s bite er brekfus’. Miss Queen, she say: ‘G’long in de fiel’, chillun, an’ git us some brekfus’. ’Tain’ gwine be long ’fo’ we’ll git rich ergin.’

“But Jack Frost meet ’em at de do’, an’ say, ‘I’ll bite de fus’ man dat sticks his nose out.’

“Miss Queen say, ‘Lawdy, Lawdy, whut we gwine do? De idee er rich fokes like we all wus, settin’ hyah waitin’ fur po’ fokes ter hope us.’

“Jack Frost say, ‘You done slip up right dar, Sis’ Queen Bee, de Lawd ain’ nuv’r make nobody so big dey kin git ’long by derse’f, an’ ef you had er drapt er lit’le er dat honey ’long side de road whilst yer wus er makin’ so much uv hit, you’d er had some uv hit layin’ ’round whar Mist’r Bad Man cudn’t er foun’ hit.’”

“Make old Mister Bad Man give ’em back some honey,” Willis insisted.

“Mister Bad Man done sole dat honey an’ got hisse’f er pa’r er shoes ter keep Jack Fros’ fum bitin’ his foots.”

Both children were clamoring for the rescue of the bees.

“Nor, suh, dey done live by derse’fs whilst dey wus rich, an’ now mis’ry done ketch up wid ’em, dey got ter perish in de same way.”

“Boo hoo, boo hoo,” wailed both, “I don’t want Miss Bizzy Bee’s children to perish.”

“Hush cryin’.”

But they continued in genuine sympathy.

“Y’uall cryin’ so hard, yer can’t see Mist’r Good Man comin’ wid his han’s right full er bee vit’als. But dat ain’ gwine be no less’n ter dem bees. Dey gwine do de same thing dis time nex’ ye’r, ’caze dey’s dem kine er fokes.”