We had a lecture at our place the other day, because our people wanted
to get even with the people of the next town, who had had a returned
missionary with a whole lot of idols the week before. The lecture was
all about wasps and beetles and such, and the lecturer had a magic
lantern and a microscope, and everything that was adapted to improve and
vitrify the infant mind, as our minister said when he introduced him. I
believe the lecturer was a wicked, bad man, who came to our place on
purpose to get me into trouble. Else why did he urge the boys to study
wasps, and tell us how to collect wasps' nests without getting stung?
The grown-up people thought it was all right, however, and Mr. Travers
said to me, "Listen to what the gentleman says, Jimmy, and improve your
mind with wasps."
Well, I thought I would do as I was told, especially as I knew of a
tremendous big wasps' nest under the eaves of our barn. I got a ladder
and a lantern the very night after the lecture, and prepared to study
wasps. The lecturer said that the way to do was to wait till the wasps
go to bed, and then to creep up to their nest with a piece of thin paper
all covered with wet mucilage, and to clap it right over the door of the
nest. Of course the wasps can't get out when they wake up in the
morning, and you can take the nest and hang it up in your room; and
after two or three days, when you open the nest and let the wasps out,
and feed them with powdered sugar, they'll be so tame and grateful that
they'll never think of stinging you, and you can study them all day
long, and learn lots of useful lessons. Now is it probable that any real
good man would put a boy up to any such nonsense as this? It's my belief
that the lecturer was hired by somebody to come and entice all our boys
to get themselves stung.
As I was saying, I got a ladder and a lantern, and a piece of paper
covered with mucilage, and after dark I climbed up to the wasps' nest,
and stopped up the door, and then brought the nest down in my hand. I
was going to carry it up to my room, but just then mother called me; so
I put the nest under the seat of our carriage, and went into the house,
where I was put to bed for having taken the lantern out to the barn; and
the next morning I forgot all about the nest.
I forgot it because I was invited to go on a picnic with Mr. Travers and
my sister Sue and a whole lot of people, and any fellow would have
forgot it if he had been in my place. Mr. Travers borrowed father's
carriage, and he and Sue were to sit on the back seat, and Mr. Travers's
aunt, who is pretty old and cross, was to sit on the front seat with Dr.
Jones, the new minister, and I was to sit with the driver. We all
started about nine o'clock, and a big basket of provisions was crowded
into the carriage between everybody's feet.
We hadn't gone mornamile when Mr. Travers cries out: "My good gracious!
Sue, I've run an awful pin into my leg. Why can't you girls be more
careful about pins?" Sue replied that she hadn't any pins where they
could run into anybody, and was going to say something more, when she
screamed as if she was killed, and began to jump up and down and shake
herself. Just then Dr. Jones jumped about two feet straight into the
air, and said, "Oh my!" and Miss Travers took to screaming, "Fire!
murder! help!" and slapping herself in a way that was quite awful. I
began to think they were all going crazy, when all of a sudden I
remembered the wasps' nest.
Somehow the wasps had got out of the nest, and were exploring all over
the carriage. The driver stopped the horses to see what was the matter,
and turned pale with fright when he saw Dr. Jones catch the basket of
provisions and throw it out of the carriage, and then jump straight
into it. Then Mr. Travers and his aunt and Sue all came flying out
together, and were all mixed up with Dr. Jones and the provisions on the
side of the road. They didn't stop long, however, for the wasps were
looking for them; so they got up and rushed for the river, and went into
it as if they were going to drown themselves--only it wasn't more than
two feet deep.
George--he's the driver--was beginning to ask, "Is thishyer some
swimmin' match that's goin' on?" when a wasp hit him on the neck, and
another hit me on the cheek. We left that carriage in a hurry, and I
never stopped till I got to my room and rolled myself up in the
bedclothes. All the wasps followed me, so that Mr. Travers and Sue and
the rest of them were left in peace, and might have gone to the picnic,
only they felt as if they must come home for arnica, and, besides, the
horses had run away, though they were caught afterwards, and didn't
break anything.
This was all because that lecturer advised me to study wasps. I followed
his directions, and it wasn't my fault that the wasps began to study Mr.
Travers and his aunt, and Sue and Dr. Jones, and me and George. But
father, when he was told about it, said that my "conduct was such," and
the only thing that saved me was that my legs were stung all over, and
father said he didn't have the heart to do any more to them with a
switch.