Bee Polite

When the children came down to the kitchen in the morning, they found that Grandpa had eaten his breakfast, and had gone out to build a pigpen behind the barn. Don hurried out to help him; and Joyce went to the spring house to do the churning for Grandma.

The little girl plunged the dasher into the thick cream, lifted it, and plunged it again, until her arms ached. At last the dasher began to look clean, and tiny particles of golden butter clung to it and she knew that the butter had “come.” Then she took the butter paddle and the bowl and cooled them in the spring, just as she had seen Grandma do. She lifted the butter from the churn with the paddle and began to work it to get the milk out. She had watched Grandma do this many times, and it had looked very easy; but she found it quite another thing, when she came to doing it herself.

After she had worked for some time, she had a solid roll of butter. She salted it, and worked it some more; and then she called Grandma to come and see it.

“I could not have made better butter myself!” said Grandma.

So Joyce had something new to write about, in her next letter to Mother.

After dinner the children went to the orchard to play. They found an ant hill; and it was very interesting to watch the ants as they worked.

One ant was carrying a bread crumb several times larger than herself, and the children were watching eagerly. The old turkey gobbler came strutting toward them; but they did not notice. Joyce was bending over, watching the industrious little ant, when suddenly the gobbler perched upon her back and began to beat her with his wings.

“Grandma!” screamed Joyce.

It was a comical sight that Grandma saw when she came to the door. There was Joyce, running toward the house, with the gobbler after her, and Don coming behind.

The gobbler was right at Joyce’s heels, when suddenly the little girl dodged behind a tree and began to go round and round it, keeping the tree between her and the gobbler. At last Don found a stick and chased him away.

When Grandma had comforted Joyce, she explained that it was the little girl’s red dress that the gobbler didn’t like. Joyce declared that she would never wear that dress again while she was on the farm. She never did; and so the gobbler did not bother her any more.

At bedtime, the children were ready for their usual story. They clambered up on to the arms of the old rocker on the porch, while Grandpa sat down on the step.

“What do we hear about tonight?” asked Grandpa. “I believe I like to hear the stories as well as Don does.”

“All boys are just alike—big and little,” said Grandma with a smile. “My story this time is about Bee Polite.”

“Oh,” said Don, “I know a little verse about politeness. I learned it at school:

“Politeness is to do and say
The kindest thing in the kindest way.”

“Then politeness means kindness, doesn’t it, Grandma?” asked Joyce.

“Yes—and more than that,” replied Grandma. “A polite person is never rude. The story is about two children who were stung by Bee Polite just once—but they never forgot it.

“Daisy and Dan were twins. When they were babies, their mother took them from their home in the East to live in a far Western state. They could not remember their grandmother, who still lived back in the old home town. All they knew about her was what their mother had told them; and she often wrote long letters, and sent them lovely presents.

“One day they received a letter from Grandma, saying that she was coming to spend a few weeks with them. They could hardly wait for Thursday to come when she was to arrive at the station.

“The train was due at six o’clock in the evening, and Mother promised the twins that they might go to meet Grandma. After school she sent them to the store to buy some things for supper, and she gave them ten cents to buy candy.

“Now there were some children living in the neighborhood who were very rude. For this reason the twins were never allowed to play with them. But today, on their way to the store, they met these children, and all went on together.

“They crossed a vacant lot, where there was a pile of crushed rock. Near the rock pile, they met an elderly woman carrying a small satchel. She spoke kindly to them; but one of the boys answered her very rudely, and then stuck out his tongue at her. The lady turned to him and said, ‘My boy, you need someone to teach you how to be a gentleman.’

“ ‘Oh, do I?’ said the boy roughly. And picking up a stone from the rock pile, he threw it at her. Another lad did the same, and still another.

“Now the twins had been taught to be polite—especially to old people. Just now little Bee Polite began to buzz about them. But when children are in bad company, it is always hard for them to hear the small voice of conscience. For a moment they stood and watched the boys throw rocks at the old lady; and then they began to throw them, too.

“No matter how hard she tried, Daisy could not throw a stone straight. But Dan had a better aim, and he threw a rock which struck the old lady’s hand.

“When the twins reached the store, there were several customers ahead of them; so they had to wait their turn. It was nearing supper time when they came out of the store with their bundles. The rude boys had waited outside for them all that time; and the twins gave them some of their candy.

“When Daisy and Dan reached home, they were much surprised to find a visitor there. It was the old lady whom they had treated so unkindly. Mother was crying, as she bathed the hand that had been hurt by Dan’s rock.

“ ‘Children,’ she said, ‘this is your dear grandmother who has come to see you. She came on an earlier train than she expected; and she inquired the way, and walked out from the station alone. Some rude children treated her very unkindly on the way. You will have to very good to her, to make up for it.’

“ ‘Well, well,’ said Grandma kindly, ‘is this Daisy and Dan? I should never have taken them to be my grandchildren.’

“The twins expected her to add, ‘So you are the naughty children who threw stones at me.’ But she did not say it; and Daisy and Dan hurried out of the room as quickly as they could.

“So the good times the children had expected to have with their grandma were spoiled in the very beginning. After that, whenever they went into the room where she was, they felt very uncomfortable.

“ ‘I don’t understand why the twins act so strangely,’ said Mother one day, as she and Grandma sat mending together. ‘I am really ashamed of them. They had planned to do so many things to make you happy during your visit. But they seem to keep away from you all they can.’

“Daisy, who was passing outside just under the window, heard every word distinctly. Her heart pounded like a hammer, and she held her breath, to hear what Grandma would say.

“Grandma went on mending, without saying a word. ‘Dear Grandma! She won’t tell on us for throwing stones at her,’ said Daisy to herself. ‘Then I’ll tell, that’s what I’ll do!’ she added with a sob.

“An instant later, Mother was surprised to see the little girl dash into the room with tears running down her cheeks. She threw herself down by the chair and laid her head in her mother’s lap. She was crying so hard that for a moment she could not speak.

“ ‘There, there, little girl,’ said Mother, ‘what has happened? Tell Mother all about it.’

“Then Daisy told the whole story. When she had finished, she threw her arms around Grandma.

“ ‘I’m so sorry, dear Grandma!’ she cried.

“Just then Grandma looked up and saw Dan standing there. He had come in so softly that no one had noticed.

“Grandma held out her hands to him; and he burst into tears. ‘It was my fault, lots more than Daisy’s,’ he sobbed. ‘I threw a stone before she did; and besides, it was my stone that hit your hand.’

“Grandma talked to the twins for a long time, then, in her own quiet way. She told them that children who were in bad company were almost sure to do wrong themselves; and that polite boys and girls usually grew up to be the best men and women.

“ ‘I know that such a thing will never happen again,’ she said, kissing them both; ‘so now it is all forgiven and forgotten.’

“But the twins could not forget. Two or three weeks later, Grandma went home. She still wrote letters and sent presents, just as if nothing had ever happened. But for many years—long after Daisy and Dan had grown up—every time they thought of their dear grandmother, they felt the sting of their rudeness and cruelty to her.”

Joyce winked the tears out of her eyes, as she threw her arms around her grandma’s neck. “I could never treat you like that, dear Grandma!” she cried.

“Neither could I,” said Dan soberly, kissing her good night.