them to pack. There were so many things they wanted to take home with
them, that this was quite a task. At the last moment, just as Grandma
was ready to close the trunk,

Don ran and got the kite that Grandpa had made. "Maybe Daddy will know
how to make it fly," he said. But there was no room for it in the trunk,
so he had to take it back to the woodshed.

"I can put it away in a safe place," he said. "It will be waiting for
us when we come back next summer."

That evening the children did all they could to help Grandpa with the
chores. They gathered the eggs, pumped water, filled the wood-box, and
did many other things.

"You are certainly fine little helpers," said Grandpa when they had
finished.

"When you get home," added Grandma with a smile, "you must tell Mother
and Daddy that we need you to help us on the farm."

"We will," promised the children with beaming faces.

When they had gathered on the porch for their last evening together,
Joyce stole up to Grandma's chair and said softly, "Tonight you must
tell us the very best bee story that you know."

"It couldn't be better than the one about Bee Content," said Don.

"I shall tell you about the bee that is perhaps the most important of