There was a feller once wich was a newspaper writer, and he was visitin' f riend wich had a hive of bees, and lis friend tole him the bees had a queen wich was a big fat bee and didn't ave to work f or a livin'. So the feller ie waited till he got a good chance, nobody around, and he give the hive a pitefle kick and run. And the last ,hat his triend see of tbat statesman, ie was dancin' on top of a distant bil, and looked like he had a hundred arms and legs, and there was a bright glory all around him, which was the sunshine on them bees ! One time there wus a man brot his )ee-hive in the house, cos it was a colé nite and set it fore the lire in the room where he slep. Wen he woke up in the mornin' the bees was all over the flore and the wols, and the chaira, and the bed, and eyerywere spred out like butter on bred. And they was into his close, and his boots was on the other side of the room, and bimeby some wioh was inside the bed theh gin to explore his two legs. So he jest shet up his eyes, and folded his fingers across his stomick, and said : "It's too late for action, and my feel is too deep Eor utter." But pretty soon the other folks in the house was woke by sech dreffle noises, that one yelled "Fier !" and a other said, "Wich way did he run ?" and a other said, "If this house is a quartz mil it ot to ben put up stronger to stand the stampin'!" I5ut it was only that bee feller takin' action and utterin' his feel at the same time.