With _me_ and bees they's no _p'tense_ o' social-bility-- A dad-burn bee 'u'd climb a fence to git a whack at _me_! I s'pose no thing 'at's _got_ a sting is railly satisfied It's _sharp_ enough, ontel, i jing! he's honed it on my hide! LXV And Doc he's allus had a knack _inventin'_ things.--Dee-vised A windlass wound its own se'f back as it run down: and s'prised Their new hired girl with _clothes-line_, too, and _clothes-pins_, all in _one_: Purt'-nigh all left fer _her_ to do wuz git her _primpin'_ done! LXVI And onc't, I mind, in airly Spring, and tappin' sugar-trees, Doc made a dad-burn little thing to sharpen _spiles_ with--these- Here wood'-spouts 'at the peth's punched out, and driv' in where they bore The auger-holes. He sharpened 'bout _a million_ spiles er more! [Illustration] [Illustration] LXVII And Doc's the first man ever swung a _bucket_ on a tree Instid o' _troughs_; and first man brung _grained_ sugar--so's 'at he Could use it fer his coffee, and fer cookin', don't you know.-- Folks come clean up from Pleasantland 'fore they'd _believe_ it, though! LXVIII And all Doc's stable-doors _on_locks and locks _theirse'ves_--and gates The same way;--all rigged up like clocks, with pulleys, wheels, and weights,-- So, 's Doc says, "drivin' _out_, er _in_, they'll _open_; and they'll _then_, All quiet-like, shet up ag'in like little gentlemen!" LXIX And Doc 'ud made a mighty good _detective_.--Neighbers all Will testify to _that_--er _could_, ef they wuz legal call: His theories on any crime is worth your listenin' to.-- And he has hit 'em, many a time, 'long 'fore established true. [Illustration] LXX At this young druggist Wenfield Pence's trial fer his life, On _primy faishy_ evidence o' pizonin' his wife, _Doc's_ testimony saved and cle'red and 'quitted him and freed Him so 's he never even 'peared cog-_ni_zant of the deed! LXXI The facts wuz--Sifers testified,-- at inquest he had found The stummick showed the woman _died_ o' pizon, but had downed The dos't _herse'f_,--because _amount_ and _cost_ o' drug imployed No _druggist_ would, on _no_ account, a-lavished and distroyed! LXXII Doc tracked a blame-don burgler down, and _nailed_ the scamp, to boot, But told him ef he'd leave the town he wouldn't prosecute. He traced him by a tied-up thumb-print in fresh putty, where Doc glazed it. Jes _that's_ how he come to track him to his lair! LXXIII