Chapter 2

"The next day Joe passed by and saw the sign; and he too went in and asked for the job. The druggist took him to the little room and showed him the chest of nails, and told him to sort them.

"When the boy had worked only a little while, he went back to the druggist and said, 'Those rusty old nails are no good. Why don't you let me throw them all away? I don't like this kind of job, anyway.'

"'All right,' said the druggist; and he paid Joe for what he had done, and let him go. As he put the nails and bolts back in the chest he said to himself, 'I am willing to pay more than this to find a really honest boy.'

"Later Joe and Henry, sauntering down the street together, saw the same sign in the window--'Boy Wanted. Apply in Person.'

"'Guess he doesn't want a boy very bad,' said Joe. 'That's no job--sorting those old rusty things. Did you find anything in the chest besides bolts and nails, Henry?'

"'I'm not telling _everything_ I found,' said Henry with a laugh.

"Joe looked up, puzzled and a little alarmed. 'Now I wonder--' he began--but broke off suddenly and started to talk about something else.

"A few days later Charles passed by the drug store and saw the sign in the window. He went in and told the druggist he would like to have the job.

"'Are Joe and Henry friends of yours?' asked the druggist, looking at him sharply.

"'Oh, no, sir.' replied Charles quickly. 'We used to be good friends; but something happened between us that I don't like to tell; and they wouldn't have anything to do with me afterward.'

"'I'm glad to hear that,' said the druggist. 'I rather think you're the boy I want.'

"For two or three hours Charles worked steadily, now and then whistling a snatch of tune. Then he went to the druggist and said, 'I have finished the job you gave me. What shall I do next?'

"The druggist went to the little room to see how Charles had done his work. The boy had found some boxes lying about; and he had placed the bolts in one, the nails in another, and the screws in a third.

"'And see what I found!' exclaimed Charles. 'It was lying under those old crooked bolts in the bottom of the chest.' And he handed the druggist a five-dollar gold-piece.

"The druggist took the money and said with a smile, 'Now you may place the bolts and screws back in the chest just as you have them arranged in the boxes.'

"After he had done that, Charles was sent on a few errands; and then he was dismissed for the day.

"A few days later the druggist gave Charles a key and said, 'You may come early in the morning and open the store, and do the sweeping and dusting.'

"At the end of the first week, when Charles received his pay-envelope, he found the five-dollar gold-piece along with the week's wages.

"One morning not long afterward, when Charles was sweeping the floor, he found a few pennies lying near the counter. He picked them up and laid them on the shelf, and told the druggist about them. Another day he found some pennies, a dime, and two nickels. These too he laid on the shelf, telling the druggist where he had found them.

"About a month later, when he was sweeping one morning, he found a bright, shiny new dollar. How he did wish he might keep it for himself!

"'The druggist would never know it,' whispered a tiny voice.

"But just at that instant, Bee Honest began to buzz around his ears. 'Don't forget what Mother told you,' said the bee. 'She said she would never be ashamed of you, as long as you were perfectly honest.'

"Charles turned the shiny dollar over and over in his hand. The bee kept on buzzing--'Never do anything that will make your mother ashamed of you. Be honest! Be honest!'

"'Yes,' said Charles at last, 'I will.' He laid the dollar up on the shelf; and when the druggist came in, he told him about it.

"The druggist smiled and patted him on the shoulder. 'You are an honest boy,' was all he said. And at the end of the week, Charles found the shiny dollar in his pay-envelope, beside his usual wages.

"A few weeks later, the druggist began to give Charles large sums of money to take to the bank for him. 'I have found that I can trust you, my boy,' he would say.

"Charles worked in the store all that summer; and when school opened again, he helped the druggist mornings and evenings. His tired mother did not have to take in so many washings now; for Charles always gave her his money at the end of the week.

"After he had finished school, the druggist gave him a steady job in the store, with good wages.

"'Charles,' said the druggist one day, 'do you remember the day you sorted bolts and nails for me?'

"'Indeed I do,' answered Charles. 'How glad I was to find work that day, so I could help my mother a little! And I shall never forget how surprised I was when I found a five-dollar gold-piece at the bottom of the chest.'

"'I put it there on purpose,' said the druggist. 'I wanted to find out what sort of boy you were.'

"'You did!' exclaimed the astonished boy.

"'Yes; and when you brought it to me I was pretty sure that I had found an honest boy. But I wanted to be able to trust you with large sums of money, so I tested you still further. I left pennies and nickels and a dime on the floor; and last of all, a dollar. When you picked them all up, and laid them on the shelf, and told me about them--I knew then that I could safely trust you.'

"'I should like to ask you,' said Charles suddenly--'was there a gold-piece lying in the bottom of that chest when Joe and Henry sorted the nails, too?'

"'Yes,' said the druggist, 'each of them found a gold-piece there; and each of them kept it for himself.'

"'So you lost ten dollars!' exclaimed Charles.

"'Yes, lost ten dollars hunting for an honest boy. But it was worth it--for I found one at last!'"

"Is that the end of the story?" asked Joyce, as Grandma paused.

"Not quite," said Grandpa, who had been listening. "Tell them what happened to Henry and Joe."

"Oh yes; I must not forget to tell you about them," said Grandma. "Soon after Charles started working for the druggist, Henry was caught stealing some things from a department store. He was arrested; but his father paid the fine, so he was allowed to go free.

"But his dishonest habits soon got him into trouble again. He broke into a house while the family was away, and stole some money. He was sent to a reformatory for boys; and he had to stay there a long time. After that, he never could keep a job long; for he was so dishonest that no one could depend on him.

"Joe did not get into so much trouble in his boyhood; but after he became a man he forged a check, and was sent to the penitentiary."

"How much better it would have been," said Joyce thoughtfully, "if Henry and Joe had only listened to the bee in the first place."

"Yes indeed;" said Grandma, "I have often thought of that; for I am sure the bee talked to them, as well as to Charles."

"Maybe," said little Don softly, "they didn't have a Grandma to tell them how to be good."

"Maybe not," said Grandpa, smiling as he rose to take the little fellow in to bed.

"Didn't they ever change into good men?" asked Joyce.

"I'm afraid not," answered Grandma. "That's the saddest part of the whole story. They felt the sting of the bee as long as they lived."

Bee Truthful

Every day Joyce and Don went out to meet the mailman; and how glad they were this morning when he brought them a letter from Mother! Mother and Daddy were having a good time at the lake; and there was a picture of Daddy smiling at them, as he held up a day's catch of fish.

"What a string of fish!" exclaimed Grandpa, when they showed it to him. "And what fine big ones they are!"

"I wish," said Don, "that we could go fishing, Grandpa."

Grandpa whispered something in his ear; and the little fellow began to dance about and clap his hands.

"What is it?" asked Joyce excitedly.

"Only that we're going fishing tomorrow," said Grandpa. "We'll start out bright and early in the morning, take our lunch, and spend the day at the river."

Joyce and Grandma were busy all morning about the house; and in the afternoon they baked cookies, and got the lunch as nearly ready as they could for the trip. Grandpa and Don went out to the garden to dig bait.

They soon had a can full of worms; and then Don found a larger can, and filled that, too. When Grandpa said they had enough, Don covered the worms with loose dirt and set the cans out in the shed. Then they got out the fishing tackle.

Late in the afternoon, Grandma called the children and asked them to catch a chicken for her, so she could get it ready for their picnic lunch.

The children asked if they might pick off the feathers. They had watched Grandma do it so many times, they thought it would be an easy job. But when they tried it, they found it was not so easy after all. They turned the chicken round and round, picking first in one place and then in another. It took them a long time to get all the feathers off.

Then Grandma cut up the chicken and put it in a crock, and took it to the spring house to keep it cool. "I will fry it in the morning," she said.

How quickly the day passed by! It was already time to do the evening chores. Grandma was trying to teach the brown and white calf to drink milk from a pail. Grandpa was busy in the barn, so she called the children to come and help her.

The calf was kept in a lot near the orchard. "I want you to drive him to the corner of the fence for me," said Grandma. "Then I will try to coax him to drink the milk."

But the little creature was not so easy to manage. As soon as they had driven him into the corner, he would back away; and off he would go again, across the lot.

After this had happened several times, Don said, "Just wait, Grandma; when we get him into the corner again, I will hold him there."

So the next time, he grabbed the calf about the neck and jumped on his back. Instantly the calf turned and galloped across the lot. When he reached the farther side, he turned again, and Don rolled off on the soft grass.

Just then, Grandpa came to the rescue. He drove the calf to the corner and held him there, while Grandma coaxed him to drink from the pail.

"We must go to bed early tonight," said Grandpa as they started for the house. "We want to reach the river by the time the sun comes up."

"But you'll tell us a story first, won't you, Grandma?" asked Don.

"Yes," said Grandma, as she sank into her comfortable old rocking chair in the kitchen.

"About another bee?" asked Joyce. "Which one?"

"Bee Truthful," answered Grandma. "Boys and girls who will not listen to him often come to grief--as the boy did that I shall tell you about.

"Little Milton lived on a farm. His father had a number of mules, which he used in plowing his fields. Two of the young mules were very ill-tempered. Milton's father was very careful to keep the little pigs and calves out of their way, for fear the mules would paw them to death.

"When Milton was almost nine, a little baby brother came into his home. His name was Marion. Milton loved the baby dearly, and never grew tired of playing with him.

"Their father built a fence around the yard. They were careful to keep the gates of the fence closed, so little Marion could not wander away; especially after the two ill-tempered mules were put out to pasture in the lot just back of the house.

"Late one afternoon, Milton was helping his father in the back lot. Daddy had to go and do something else, so he left the boy to finish the job.

"'As soon as you have finished,' said Daddy, 'you may go to the house. But be sure to latch the back yard gate.'

"Daddy did not get home until after dark. 'Milton,' he said, 'did you latch the gate when you came in this afternoon?'

"Milton knew he had forgotten, but he thought to himself, 'If I tell the truth, I shall have to go out and latch the gate now; and I am afraid of the dark.'

"Aloud, he said, 'Yes, Daddy, I did.'

"'Are you sure?' asked Daddy.

"'Yes,' said Milton again.

"The little boy suddenly heard a bee buzzing in his ears--'Tell the truth, Milton; tell the truth!' But he said to himself, 'It won't matter if the gate stands open all night; I will latch it the first thing in the morning.' And so he soon forgot all about it.

"The next morning, right after breakfast, Milton's mother sent him on an errand. Marion was still asleep.

"'Where's Marion?' asked Milton when he came back.

"'He woke a little while ago,' said Mother. 'After I gave him his breakfast, I let him go out in the yard to play--it's such a bright morning.'

"Instantly Milton thought of the gate; and he went to look for Marion.

"A moment later he heard his father cry out in alarm; and looking toward the pasture where the two young mules were kept, he saw little Marion just inside the fence.

"Daddy ran toward the baby as fast as he could; but he was just too late. One of the mules kicked Marion, and he fell over in a little heap. The mule, seeing Daddy coming, ran toward the other end of the pasture.

"Daddy picked up the limp little body and carried it to the house. The baby lay so still that at first they thought he was dead.

"Milton was terribly frightened, and he cried almost all day; for he knew this dreadful thing had happened because he did not latch the back yard gate--and because he had told Daddy a lie about it.

"Poor little Marion was taken to the hospital. His spine had been injured, and it was many, many months before he could sit up. And never again was he able to run about like other children.

"It was a long time before Mother and Daddy found out how the baby came to be in the pasture with the mules. But one day, after little Marion had been brought home, Milton told Daddy the whole, sad story.

"'I'm very sorry,' said Daddy kindly, when he had finished. 'I wish you had told me the truth. I wouldn't have sent you out alone in the dark, son. I would have gone out and latched the gate myself.'

"It was almost more than Milton could bear, to have his father talk to him so sadly and yet so kindly. The sting of the bee went deeper and deeper, as he watched his pale-faced little brother day after day. Always after that, he was careful to listen to the buzzing of little Bee Truthful."

Two very sober children said good-night to Grandma just as the clock struck half-past eight.

Bee Kind

"Don," said Grandma, shaking the little sleeper, "it's time to wake up!"

Don turned over, rubbed his eyes, and with a deep sigh settled back to sleep.

"Here, here!" cried Grandma, shaking him again. "Do you want us to leave you at home all alone? We're going fishing today!"

Instantly Don was wide awake. He bounced out of bed and began to dress as quickly as he could. In five minutes he was in the kitchen; but Joyce was there ahead of him, helping Grandma to pack the lunch basket.

Don was so excited that Grandma could coax him to eat only a few bites of breakfast. He was the first one in the car, ready to start for the river.

The sun was just peeping over the hills, when they drove into a pretty, shady nook on the bank of the river. "This is always a good place to fish," said Grandpa. They stopped under a tree whose great, spreading branches leaned far out over the water; and soon they were untying the fishing poles and baiting their hooks.

"I'll give a nickel to the one who catches the first fish," said Grandpa.

Suddenly Don's cork began to bob up and down in the water. Joyce felt a strong pull on her line, too. Almost at the same instant each of them lifted a fish from the water. Grandpa took the little perch from Don's hook, and a catfish from Joyce's; and with his big, hearty laugh he gave them each a nickel.

The hours passed so quickly that before the children knew it, it was time for lunch. But when Grandma spread out the chicken and sandwiches and cookies and lemonade in the shade of the big tree, they found that they were as hungry as bears.

After lunch, Grandma lay down in the shade and tried to take a nap, while the others went back to their fishing. But the fish did not bite so well as they had done in the morning.

They had already caught a great many fish, so they decided to go home early. Grandpa had been stringing the fish one by one, as they had caught them; and he had let the line hang down in the water. Now, when he lifted it out, the children were delighted to see how many fish they had caught.

"That is a longer string of fish than Daddy has in the picture!" cried Don.

"We cannot use so many fish ourselves," said Grandpa. "We shall have to share with the neighbors."

When they reached home, Don helped Grandpa to clean the fish. Grandpa skinned the catfish, and Don scraped the scales from the perch. When they had finished, Don had fish scales all over him--even in his hair.

But this trouble was all forgotten at supper time, when Grandma set a large platter of fish on the table. Grandpa said it tasted better than the fried chicken.

In the evening, the children came to Grandma for their usual story. They sat down on the porch, with the soft summer dusk gathering about them.

"I shall tell you a story tonight," began Grandma, "about a bee that every child should listen to and obey. Its name is Bee Kind.

"James and Richard lived near each other, and they were playmates. One day they were flying their kites in a vacant lot, when they saw a dirty little puppy. Richard began to stamp his feet and try to scare it; but as he could not chase it away, he threw stones at the poor little thing.

"A stone struck the puppy on his head, and hurt him very badly; for he began to turn round and round, whining and howling pitifully. Richard laughed, as if he thought it a great joke.

"'Shame on you!' cried James, 'for treating a poor little puppy like that!'

"'You're a sissy,' said Richard, 'or you wouldn't care.'

"'You may call me what you please,' said James, 'but I shall never hurt a poor little dog that can't help himself. Maybe he's lost.'

"With that, he lifted the little creature in his arms and carried him home. The puppy's head was bleeding where Richard had struck him with the stone. James washed the blood away and gave the little dog something to eat, talking to him kindly and petting him all the while.

"When his father came home that evening, he told James that the puppy showed marks of being a very good dog; and that if the owner never came, he might keep him for his own.

"James was delighted. He named the dog Rex, and at once began to teach him to do all sorts of tricks. Rex learned to walk on his hind feet, sit up straight and beg for something to eat, play 'dead dog,' roll over, chase his tail, and run through a hoop.

"In a few months, Rex had grown to be quite a large dog. By this time, James had taught him how to swim; and when the boy would throw a stick into the water and say, 'Go get it, Rex,' the dog would bring it back in his mouth.

"All the boys in the neighborhood liked Rex; and he liked them all-- except Richard. Whenever he came around, the dog would growl and show his teeth.

"Two years later, one warm Saturday afternoon in April, James called Rex and started for the pond. Oftentimes fishing parties visited this pond, so a number of small boats were tied among the willows fringing the shore. On this particular afternoon, Richard and his little brother Harry had also gone to the pond; and Richard untied one of the boats to take a ride. Of course he had no right to use a boat that did not belong to him; but he thought that no one would ever know.

"Just as James came around a clump of willows, he saw the little boat tip over; and Richard and Harry fell in, at the deepest place in the pond. James knew they could not swim; so he began to call for help as loudly as he could. Rex ran back and forth whining, looking first at James, then at the boys in the water. Suddenly a happy thought struck James. Pointing to the two boys, he said, 'Go get them, Rex!' Immediately the dog jumped into the water and began to swim toward the boys. He soon had Harry's collar between his teeth, and was swimming back to shore.

"James helped Harry to his feet; and then, pointing to Richard, he said, 'Go get the other one!'

"Richard had gone down the second time when Rex reached him; but as he came up to the surface of the water, the dog caught him and began to swim back. It was a hard task, as Richard was heavier than Harry; but at last Rex brought him safely to shore.

"All this time James had been calling for help; and now several men came running toward the pond. They began working with Richard, and after some time he came back to consciousness.

"'Who got me out of the water?' he asked, as soon as he could speak.

"'Rex,' answered James.

"Tears rolled down Richard's face as he said brokenly, 'Just think! I almost killed him when he was a little puppy! I know one thing--I'll never do such a thing again.'

"Everybody petted and praised Rex for what he had done. Richard's father bought a beautiful new collar for him. But although the dog had saved Richard's life, he never would have anything to do with him afterward. He could not forget how cruelly the boy had treated him in his puppyhood."

"Daddy promised to get a puppy for me soon," said Don. "I shall name him Rex, after the good dog in the story."

"And I'm quite sure," said Grandma, "that you'll always be as kind to him as James was to Rex. But I know a little man that will be asleep in about five minutes. Hustle him off to bed, Grandpa, or you'll have to carry him upstairs."

Don said a sleepy good-night; and sure enough, five minutes later he was fast a-sleep.

Bee Polite

When the children came down to the kitchen in the morning, they found that Grandpa had eaten his breakfast, and had gone out to build a pig-pen behind the barn. Don hurried out to help him; and Joyce went to the spring house to do the churning for Grandma.

The little girl plunged the dasher into the thick cream, lifted it, and plunged it again, until her arms ached. At last the dasher began to look clean, and tiny particles of golden butter clung to it and she knew that the butter had "come." Then she took the butter paddle and the bowl and cooled them in the spring, just as she had seen Grandma do. She lifted the butter from the churn with the paddle and began to work it to get the milk out. She had watched Grandma do this many times, and it had looked very easy; but she found it quite another thing, when she came to doing it herself.

After she had worked for some time, she had a solid roll of butter. She salted it, and worked it some more; and then she called Grandma to come and see it.

"I could not have made better butter myself!" said Grandma. So Joyce had something new to write about, in her next letter to Mother.

After dinner the children went to the orchard to play. They found an ant hill; and it was very interesting to watch the ants as they worked.

One ant was carrying a bread crumb several times larger than herself, and the children were watching eagerly. The old turkey gobbler came strutting toward them; but they did not notice. Joyce was bending over, watching the industrious little ant, when suddenly the gobbler perched upon her back and began to beat her with his wings.

"Grandma!" screamed Joyce.

It was a comical sight that Grandma saw when she came to the door. There was Joyce, running toward the house, with the gobbler after her, and Don coming behind.

The gobbler was right at Joyce's heels, when suddenly the little girl dodged behind a tree and began to go round and round it, keeping the tree between her and the gobbler. At last Don found a stick and chased him away.

When Grandma had comforted Joyce, she explained that it was the little girl's red dress that the gobbler didn't like. Joyce declared that she would never wear that dress again while she was on the farm. She never did; and so the gobbler did not bother her any more.