The two proceeded on their way.

"What are you going to do with that baby?" said the Languid Youth.

"I shall carry it along with me," said the Bee-man, "as I go on with
my search, and perhaps I may find its mother. If I do not, I shall
give it to somebody in that little village yonder. Any thing would be
better than leaving it to be devoured by that horrid dragon."

"Let me carry it. I feel quite strong enough now to carry a baby."

"Thank you," said the Bee-man, "but I can take it myself. I like to
carry something, and I have now neither my hive nor my doublet."

"It is very well that you had to leave them behind," said the Youth,
"for the bees would have stung the baby."

"My bees never sting babies," said the other.

"They probably never had a chance," remarked his companion.

They soon entered the village, and after walking a short distance the
youth exclaimed: "Do you see that woman over there sitting at the
door of her house? She has beautiful hair and she is tearing it all
to pieces. She should not be allowed to do that."

"No," said the Bee-man. "Her friends should tie her hands."

"Perhaps she is the mother of this child," said the Youth, "and if
you give it to her she will no longer think of tearing her hair."