San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1878-11-09
lying still few moments he reached out
and got his bottle of bees.

and got his bottle of bees.
1t was not an easy thing to do, to picl,
one bee out Of a bottle full with his fin.
gers, and not get into trouble. The first
bee Mr.. Middlerib got was little brown
honey-bee that wouldn't weigh half an
ounce if you picked him up by the ears,
but if you lifted him by the hind leg,
as Mr.. Middlerib did, would weigh ms
much as the last end of a bay mule. Mr..
Middlerib could not repress groan.
whats the matter with your" slosp-
lily asked his wife. at 3
1t was very hard for Mr.. Middlerib to
say he only felt hot, but he did it. He
didn't have to lie about it, either. He
did feel very hot, indeed. About eighty
six all over, and one hundred and nine
ty-seven on the end of his thumb. He
reversed the bee and pressed the war
like terminus Of it firmly against his
rheumatic knee. '- H'.
1t didn't hurt so badly as he thought
it would.
1t didn't hurt at all.
Then Mr.. Middlerib remembered that
when the honey-bee stabs human foe,
it generally leaves its harpoon in the
wound, and the Invalid knew then that
the only thing this bee had to sting with
was doing its work in the end of his
thumb.
He reached his arm out from under
the sheet, and dropped this disabled
atom of rheumatism liniment on the car
pet. Then, after second of blank Won
der, he began to feel around for the bot
tie, and wished he knew what he did
with it. al.
In the meantime strange things had
been going on. When he caught hold
of the first bee, Mr.. Middlerib, for rea-
sons, drew it out in such haste that for
the time he forgot all about the bottle
and its remedial contents, and left it
lying uncorked in the bed, between him
self and his innocent wife. In the dark
ness there had been quiet but general
emigration from that bottle. The bees,
their wings clogged with the water Mr..
Middlerib had poured upon them to
cool and tranquilize them, were crawl
ing aimlessly about over the sheet
While Mr.. Middlerib was feeling around
for it, his ears were suddenly thrilled
and his heart frozen by wild, piercing
scream from his wife. ''.....
"Murder!" she screamed, murder
Oh, help me! Help! help!"
Mr.. Middlerib sat bolt upright in the
bed. His hair stood on end. The night
was very warm, but he turned to ice in
a minute.
"Where in thunder" he said, with
pallid lips, as he felt all over the bed in
frenzied haste-"where in thunder are
them internal bees?"
And large humble, >" with sting as
pitiless as the finger of scorn, just then
climbed up the inside of Mr.. Middlerib's
night-shirt until it got squarely between
his shoulders, and then it felt in for his
marrow, and said, calmly:
"Here is one of them"
And Mrs. Middlerib felt ashamed OF
her feeble screams when Mr.. MiddleriL
threw up both arms, and, with how
that made the windows rattle, roared:
"Take him off! Oh, land of Scott
somebody take him off" .
And, when a little honey-bee began
tickling the sole of Mrs Middlerib's
foot, she shrioked that the house was be,
witched, and Immediately went into
spasms.
The household was aroused by this
time. Miss Middlerib, and Master Mid,
dlerib, and the servants were pouring
into the room, adding to the general
confusion by bowling at random, and
asking irrelevant questions, while they
gazed at the figure of man, little on
in years, arrayed in a long night-shirt,
paving fercely at the unattainable spot
in the middle of his back, while he
danced an unnatural. weird, wicked
looking Jig by the dim, religious light OF