There was a pained expression on Margery's face and she was panting. [Illustration] "I'm stung," she murmured. Willie Jones did not have to ask "Where?" for the middle finger of one hand was already standing straight out, swollen and red. "I'm awfully sorry, Margery, honest I am. Put some mud on it. That'll help some." "I don't see any mud," Margery panted, looking hopelessly over the green meadow. "Can't we make some quick enough?" Willie asked, digging his heel into the turf. "Now, Margery, spit on this. . . . Aw, that's not enough. Watch me." By their united efforts they succeeded in mixing a mud plaster large enough to cover the wound. "There now, does that feel better?" "I don't know, Willie. Maybe it does. But do you know--do you know--I--I think I'm getting sick." "Oh, no, you're not. You just think you are. Brace up now and you'll feel all right." Then, by way of changing the subject and giving praise where praise was due, he added: "That was dandy of you not dropping any berries when the bees chased us. There are not quite two quarts, but don't you care. I think my mother'll count them for two." But Margery was not to be diverted. "Oh, Willie," she groaned, "I feel awful sick! Oh, if I could only thr'up!" "Well, thr'up if you want to," Willie advised. "There's no one around here, and I won't look, honest I won't." Margery shook her head sadly. "I can't do it alone. I got to have hot water and things. Come on. We better go home or I think I'll die. Oh, if my head just didn't ache so! Maybe you better lend me your cap, Willie. Thanks. I suppose that'll help my head some, but I don't believe it will. Oh, Willie, do you know what I wish?" "What?" "Oh, I do wish I had never et a single banana! And I knew all the time I oughtn't to eat so many, I knew it just as well! Oh, Willie, isn't it turrible the way a person does a thing even when they know they oughtn't to?" All the way home Willie had very little to say, but he listened politely as Margery talked on and on, punctuating her sad moralizings with long labored breaths and weary headshakes. "And then afterwards, Willie, if I had only sat still as Effie told me to, I might have got off all right. But no, I had to come racing off here in the hot sun and I knew I oughtn't to, and then I went into the blackberry patch and I knew I hadn't any right to, and all I got to say is, it's a wonder a hundred bees didn't sting me instead of one. . . ." Willie looked at her curiously. "Do you think you got stung because you picked those berries?" "I just know that was why." "Well, the gravedigger was getting it worse than you, and I guess he had a right to be there, hadn't he?" For a moment Margery was stumped, but only for a moment. "Yes, Willie," she said simply, "he had a right to chase us, but--he had no right to use such turrible langwedge. I'm not one bit surprised he got stung for it. You heard him yourself, Willie, you know you did."