he should interfere with the honey-making in any way.

He was content to live a life of ease and pleasure. And never having to
bestir himself--never having to hurry or worry--he quickly grew into a
somewhat clumsy and blundering young gentleman. And what was still worse,
this handsome young idler soon gained the name of being none too
keen-witted. _Good-natured, but a bit stupid_--that was what the field
and forest folk called Buster Bumblebee.

But bless you! _He_ never bothered his head with what people said. When
anybody called him a drone he would only laugh. And when some busybody
asked him for pity's sake why didn't he go to work, he would merely grin
and reply that he was a queen's son and that queens' sons never did
anything except eat a plenty and have a good time.

Well, that must have been an excellent answer, for it seemed to keep
people quiet. And it made some think that perhaps Buster Bumblebee was
not quite so dull as he often appeared.

Once, indeed, he had thought it would be fun to help with the
honey-making. So he stopped one of the workers when she was on her way
home with a load of nectar.

"Let me help you carry that home!" Buster said.

Now, the workers were all a shrewish lot. They were terribly
short-tempered--especially if anybody interfered with their work, which
they loved better than anything else in the world.

"Don't you come near me!" snapped the worker angrily. "Keep away or I'll