Now, Johnnie knew a good many things about the field and forest folk in
Pleasant Valley. He knew that the Carpenter (or Whiteface, as Johnnie
called him) couldn't sting anybody. But he had always supposed that all
bumblebees stung fiercely. And that was where he was mistaken. It was
true that Buster's mother, the Queen, could sting when she wanted to. And
all those hot-tempered workers who lived with her had stings just as hot
as their tempers. But Buster and his brothers (for he had brothers) were
not armed with such weapons.

Naturally, the other twin was now more eager than ever to capture a
bumblebee of his own. And since Johnnie did not want to disappoint a
guest he soon suggested that they go over to the clover patch.

"There's a lot of bumblebees over there, always," said Johnnie Green
hopefully.

So Buster had a free ride to the clover field; for his twin insisted on
taking his new pet right along with him.

"Besides, I may want to catch some more like him," he explained.

Looking out through the glass sides of his prison, which his captor held
tightly in one hand, Buster Bumblebee saw many of his mother's workers
hovering about the clover-tops, gathering nectar for the honeycomb at
home.

The twins saw the workers, too. They were delighted. And so was Johnnie
Green.

"Take all the bumblebees you want!" said Johnnie. "My father won't care."