The dominie did the
same, all the time saying: "No violence! my dear friend; in this world
we must pretend not to see a great many things that we cannot help
seeing." The teamsters went by, and no further use for the revolver
appeared. Wilkinson would not allow his companion to shoot at birds or
chipmunks, and, on being expostulated with, the kindly lawyer confessed
that it would have been a shame to take their innocent young lives. At
last they saw a gray paper-like structure of large size on the limb of
an oak pretty high up. "I'll bet you can't hit that, Wilks," said the
lawyer. "I shall try," replied the dominie. They fired simultaneously
and both struck the grey mass, and then the warriors ran, ran as they
had hardly done since they were boys, for a hundred wasps were after
them, eager to take vengeance on the piercers of their communal home.
After two hundred yards had been done in quick time, they stopped and
faced each other.
"I've killed three that got down my back, but the beggar that stung me
on the lip escaped," said Coristine.
"I have one sting on the left hand and another on the right temple,"
replied Wilkinson.
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