"Scatt!" shrieked Bink. "Get away from here, or I'll murder you!"
Browning moved back, for a bee seemed to be making a desperate effort to
single him out as a victim. Then he stuck his pipe into his mouth,
quickly fished out some tobacco, and crammed the bowl full, and lighted
it.
"Smoke 'em off!" he said. "That's a good way to fight bees."
"And tobacco smoke keeps away other female critters!" laughed Danny,
trying rather vainly to imitate the peculiar quality in the farmer's
speech. "That's the reason you have never been popular with the fair.
Now there is Veazie----"
"What about cigarettes?" drawled Browning, making a fog round his head.
"Don't let the kettle call the pot Blackie! The most disgusting thing
ever created is a smoker of cigarettes!"
"Yah!" growled Danny, taking out a cigarette. "Lend me a match, old
man."
And Browning lent him a match. Bink was rubbing earnestly at the stung
spot.
"I'll never see honey again without thinking of this."
"Which honey do you mean?" asked Danny. "I heard you calling a
chambermaid Honey the other evening. You must have thought her sweet!"
"And I heard one of them calling you a fool the other evening. She must
have thought you an idiot."
"Thomebody get me a cab!" begged Veazie, rubbing his stings and ruefully
regarding himself.
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