Ethel's wonderment increased.
"Children do get the greatest amount of fun out of the smallest
things," she thought. "What can they be doing?"
When quite near the thicket, however, her slow steps quickened into a
run. Her sharp eyes discovered hanging from one of the trees over the
heads of the children one of the large wasps' nests which seem to be
made of gray paper. It had caught Dicky's attention and he had coveted
it for purpose of investigation. Summoning his cohorts he had pointed
it out to them and had urged them to bring it down. Each one had
broken a stick; some had stripped off the leaves entirely; others had
left a tuft at the end. In both cases the weapons looked dangerously
destructive to Ethel, as she ran toward them and saw one pole after
another swish past the home of the paper wasps and expected the colony
to rush forth to defend their abode. With a cry of warning she bore
down on them and with a sweep of her arms turned them all back into the
open field. Dicky was indignant.
"What you doing that for?" he demanded angrily. "One more thwat and
I'd a had it."
"You don't know what it is," cried Ethel breathlessly.
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