"How do you like that?" Peppery Polly inquired, after she had finished
her song.

"You have a beautiful voice," Freddie Firefly hastened to tell her.

"Yes--of course!" she agreed. "But I refer to the words. What do you
think of them?"

"I think they're awful!" Freddie Firefly cried; for his companion had
scared the truth out of him before he stopped to think how it would
sound.

"Quite right!" said Peppery Polly. "I made up that song. And I flatter
myself it's about the worst I ever heard." To Freddie Firefly's relief,
she seemed quite pleased.

He was able to draw a deep breath again as they reached the field of red
clover, where Peppery Polly Bumblebee settled quickly upon a clover-top
and began sucking up the sweet nectar with her long tongue. For some
time she worked busily without saying a word. And indeed, how could she
have spoken with her tongue buried deep in the heart of a clover
blossom?

But when she withdrew her tongue and flitted from one clover-top to
another, she never failed to fix her wicked eyes on Freddie Firefly and
demand "more light--and be quick about it!"

Since no harm had yet fallen him, he began to wonder after a while if
Peppery Polly's bark was not worse than her bite--or perhaps it would be
better to say that he wondered if her song was not worse than her sting.