Edmund Blair Leighton Stitching the Standard

Edmund Blair Leighton Stitching the StandardFrancois Boucher Nude on a SofaFrank Dicksee La Belle Dame Sans MerciBenjamin Williams Leader The Last Gleam, Wargrave on Thames
various terrified daughters-in-law.
“It must be especially lonely at night,” said Casanunda, out of habit as much as anything else.
“Well, there’s . But wasps
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were adept at finding the odd chink in the woodwork around the back somewhere and the sleek little devils’d be in and robbing the hive before you knew it. Funny. The bees in the hive’d let them do it, too. They guarded the entrance, but if a wasp found another way in, they didn’t know what to do.
He gave the plunger a push. A stream of liquid bubbled out and left a smoking streak on the floor.Greebo,” said Nanny “He keeps my feet warm.”“Greebo—““The cat. I say, do you think there’s any pudding?”Later, she asked for a doggy bottle.Mr. Brooks the beekeeper ladled some greenish, foul-smelling liquid out of the saucepan that was always simmer-ing in his secret hut, and filled his squirter.There was a wasps’ nest in the garden wall. It’d be a mortuary by morning.That was the thing about bees. They always guarded theentrance to the hive, with their lives if necessary