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Page 7
"Bombus," said he, cheerfully,--"B. Bombus, Esq., of Clovertop Manse,
Honeywell."
"But you 're not a minister, are you?" inquired Betty.
"No; why?" returned the gentleman, quickly.
"Because you said 'Manse.' A manse is a minister's house, is n't it?"
asked Betty.
"No, not always," Bombus replied. "But I call my place Clovertop Manse
because it belongs to me and not to my wife, do you see? I call it
Manse because it _is_ a man's. It is perfectly plain. If it was a
woman's, I 'd say so."
"Well, I don't think you 're much of a _humble_-bee--" began Betty, and
then caught herself up short and stopped.
Mr. Bombus gave her a severe look from under his three-cornered hat,
but did not reply at once, and they advanced on their way for some
little time in silence. Then the gentleman said:
"I 've been thinking of what you said about my not being a humble-bee.
Of course I am not a humble-bee, but you seemed to lay considerable
stress on the first part of the word, as if you had a special meaning.
Explain!"
Poor Betty blushed very red with shame and confusion; but the gentleman
had a commanding way with him and she dared not disobey.
"I only meant, sir," she stammered,--"I only meant--I--did n't think
you were very humble, because you seemed very proud about the place
being yours. I thought you were 'stuck up,' as my brother says."
"Stuck up? Where?" queried Mr. Bombus, anxiously. "Pray don't make
such unpleasant insinuations. They quite set my heart to throbbing.
I knew--I mean I saw a humble-bee once," he remarked impressively, "and
would you believe it, a little boy caught him and impaled him on a pin.
It was horrible. He died in the most dreadful agony,--the bee, not the
boy,--and then the boy secured him to the wall; made him fast there.
So he was stuck up. You surely can't mean--"
"Oh, no, indeed! I meant only proud," replied Betty, contritely; for
Mr. Bombus's face had really grown pale with horror at the remembrance
of the bee's awful fate, and she was very sorry she had occasioned him
such discomfort.
"Then why did n't you say only 'proud'?" asked her companion, sharply.
"You said 'proud,' and then added 'stuck up.'"
Betty thought it was about time to change the subject, so she observed
quietly that By-and-by seemed a long way off.
"Of course it is a long way off," replied her companion. "Don't you
wish it to be a long way off?"
Betty hesitated. "Well, I don't think I ever wished much about it.
Can you tell me how many miles it is from some place I know about? You
see, Mr. Bombus, I am pretty sure it is n't in the geography. At
least, I don't remember that I ever saw it on the map. Could n't you
tell me where it is?"
Mr. Bombus considered a moment, And then asked, "Do you know where Now
is?"
Betty thought a minute, and then replied, "I suppose it is Here, sir."
"Right!" assented the old gentleman, promptly. "Now, if you had said
There, it would have been wrong; for Then is There. You see, this is
the way: When we have lived in Now until it is all used up, it changes
into Then, and, instead of being Here, is There. I hope it's plain to
you. Well, you asked me where By-and-by was. That 's the very thing
about it: it never was, not even _is_; it's always _going to be_, and
it's generally a rather long way from Now; so, if you know where Now
is, you can make your own calculations as to the distance of By-and-by."
"But I don't know anything about calculating distances," said Betty,
dolefully.
"It does n't matter," remarked Mr. Bombus; "for even if you did you
could n't apply it in this case. But we 're getting on in our journey.
Yes, indeed, we seem to be really getting on."
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