BEE HAPPY!!

Once there was a bee named Hugo Jeremiah Potts. He came from a long line of illustrious Potts bees, and his father was a Jeremiah (or Jeremy, or Jem) and so that was why this bee was named Hugo Jeremiah Potts. He was very proud of this name. He had his initials embroidered on his handkerchiefs, and he would tell everyone his name in full when he introduced himself, and would tell them about how we came from a very illustrious line of Potts. The only thing that bugged him a little bit was that he wasn't quite sure yet why he, Hugo, was particularly illustrious, or indeed, his father. Ah well, he would tell himself, after sitting down with a cup of honey-tea after a hard day's work in the cloverfields, everything had its time, didn't they, and he had a good bit of time left yet to do something illustrious.

On one such evening when he was drinking his honey-tea and pondering all manner of things which he could see outside his window, he spotted a little caterpillar next to the daisy-trees, which happened to situated in his garden.

"I say!"he shouted, "You're in my garden there!" spilling his tea everywhere in his excitement.

The caterpillar didn't hear him. Hugo mopped the tea off of his lap and chair and floor and hurried out of his little house.

He approached the little caterpillar and asked him politely what on earth he was doing in his garden.

"I am terribly sorry," said the little caterpillar. "I was just looking for some good leaves to eat. I was wondering if you had any to spare, if that was no trouble."

Hugo regarded the caterpillar silently for a moment. He decided he liked him, for he had a friendly look about the face, and after all, he had most excellent manners for a caterpillar.

"I suppose you could use my back garden. I do have quite a range of different leafy plants out there and there must be something there to tickle your fancy," shaking feelers with the caterpillar.

The caterpillar thanked him most profusely and introduced himself as Albert. Hugo then introduced Albert to the backgarden and the leafy plants after regaling him with the stories of the most illustrious Potts.

Albert stayed for many days in the backgarden of Hugo's house, and Hugo quite enjoyed watching Albert slowly munch his way through Hugo's plants. The sound of munching was quite soothing. He also, he admitted to himself, enjoyed the company.

One evening, the munching stopped. Hugo leaned out of the window facing the backgarden, concerned. To his horror, Albert was nowhere to be seen. Instead there was a large stone-like object dangling from the eaves of his porch. He placed his rocking chair beside the stone and waited to see if Albert appeared again.

He didn't. Hugo waited many days in his rocking chair. Eventually he sadly moved inside and set about cleaning the house, for it had grown quite dusty in those days of waiting. Suddenly he heard a loud crack! from the backgarden. He rushed outside. The stone that Albert had left behind had split open. A butterfly was perching on his porch rail.

"Bah!" he snarled. "Be off with you!" He never really had liked butterflies.

The butterfly laughed. "But Hugo! It's me! Albert! Don't you see? I've turned into a butterfly inside that chrysalis!" motioning to the split-open rock.

Hugo looked closer. Indeed, it was Albert. The friendly smile was still there, and the eyes seemed the same. And he spoke with the same soft Irish brogue.

The friends hugged and laughed.

Then Albert parted sadly. "I'm afraid I must leave, Hugo. Thank you so much for your wonderful hospitality."

He flew off, his colourful wings shining in the sunlight.

Hugo was very sad. He wandered back into his house, carefully carrying the broken chrysalis with him. He placed the chrysalis on the table, and went to bed. But he couldn't sleep, for whenever he closed his eyes the vivd colours of Hugo's wings flashed across his eyelids.

Almost a year passed. Hugo was sitting at his window, drinking some honey-tea thoughtfully, gazing out the window.

He spotted a figure standing under a daisy-tree in his garden. His tea spilt everywhere.

It was a little caterpillar.