The next day Buster Bumblebee set out for the orchard to find Mrs. Ladybug.  He wanted to warn her to stop talking about Betsy Butterfly.  But Buster hadn’t realized that it was not an easy matter to say anything to Mrs. Ladybug.  Mrs. Ladybug always liked to do most of the talking herself.  She preferred to let others listen.

He found her hard at work destroying insects on an old apple tree.  And when she caught sight of him Mrs. Ladybug paused in her labors.

“Well, young man!” she exclaimed, looking at Buster severely.  “Are you idling this lovely day away?  You don’t seem to be making any honey.”

Buster wished that he had spoken first.  He certainly had had no intention of discussing such matters as honey making.

“I don’t need to make honey,” he told Mrs. Ladybug.  “The workers in our hive provide honey enough.  Maybe you didn’t know that I’m of royal blood.  I’m the Queen’s son.  I don’t have to work,” he declared somewhat hotly.

“Rubbish!” cried Mrs. Ladybug, regarding him with a frown.  “Go get yourself some working clothes!  Take off your black velvet and gold!  And save that suit for best!”

“You don’t understand,” Buster tried to explain.  “Being a Queen’s son, I’m expected to wear my court costume every day.”

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Ladybug retorted.  “The sooner you get such silly notions out of your head, the better off you’ll be.  Everybody ought to work.  Too much play is bad for folks.”

Buster Bumblebee could feel himself flushing.  The neighbors were not expected to address a Queen’s son in that fashion.

“That’s exactly the way you talk about Betsy Butterfly!” he exploded.

“Huh!” Mrs. Ladybug sniffed.  “You are a worthless pair.  Betsy Butterfly’s wings ­”

At this point Buster managed to interrupt her.

“Don’t talk about wings, please!” he cried.  “Who are you, to talk about wings? ­when you haven’t any yourself.”

Mrs. Ladybug started; and she gave him a queer look.  “What’s that?” she inquired.  “What’s that?  Say that again!”

“You haven’t any wings.”

“Ho!” she laughed.  “You’re mistaken.  I have wings.”

“Then you’ve left them at home,” he insisted.

Mrs. Ladybug smiled a very knowing sort of smile.  When he saw it Buster Bumblebee couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable.  Somehow he knew that he had blundered.  But just where he had erred he was unable to decide.

“Watch sharp, young sir!” Mrs. Ladybug bade him.  “Watch sharp and perhaps you’ll be able to learn something.”

Then Buster Bumblebee received the surprise of his life.  As he watched, little Mrs. Ladybug opened her shell-like, black-dotted, red back and spread a pair of delicate brown wings.

“See these?” she said to Buster Bumblebee, who gasped at her blankly.  “I’ve really two pairs of wings, because my polka dot wing covers are actually wings too ­only folks don’t usually call them by that name.”

Having spread her wings, Mrs. Ladybug decided to take a short flight.  And with Buster gazing dully after her she flitted off.

“I’ll have to tell my mother, the Queen, about this,” he muttered.