Uncle Andy was far from happy himself; but he felt that the Babe, who had behaved very well, must have his mind diverted.

He fished out a letter from his pocket, rolled himself, with his heavy pipe tobacco, a cigarette as thick as his finger, and fell to puffing such huge clouds as would discourage other bees from prying into the thicket.

Then he remarked irrelevantly but consolingly: "It isn't always, by any means, that the bees get the best of it this way.

Mostly it's the other way about.

_This_ bear was a fool.