instead of the katydids and whippoorwills. Only one more night after
this, and we shall be home."

"Yes," added Don--"only two more stories about the bees." He clambered
up on to the arm of Grandma's rocking chair, while Joyce sat down at her
feet.

"We're ready for our story, Grandma," said Don.

"All right," answered Grandma. "I shall tell you this time about a little
bee called Bee Content. Its buzz is often heard among children at play,
when things happen that no one can help. Some will not listen to it, and
so they complain and make everyone about them miserable.

"Willie was a poor boy who lived on a farm. Although he had to work hard,
helping his father, he always went about whistling or singing. His clothes
were old and patched; and he did not have things to play with, as other
boys have. But he did not mind being poor, because he had parents who
loved him dearly.

"One day when Willie was working in the field, he looked up and saw a
great cloud of dust. A team was running away. The horses were hitched
to a buggy; and as they came rushing toward him, the thought flashed
into Willie's mind that he must try his best to stop them. A short
distance down the road, there was a bridge. If the horses should run
into the railing,' he thought, 'they would tear the buggy to pieces, and
perhaps hurt themselves.'

"The boy leaped over the fence, and braced himself; and as the horses
came near, he grabbed one by the bridle and held on tightly. This was a