A man produced some string, and with it they tied Addison's trouser legs down and fastened his jacket sleeves tight round the wrists.

Then Uncle Hannibal lifted him up as if he had been a child and at one boost shoved him up through the scuttle hole.

When Addison had got to his feet in the loft, the Senator passed him a wicker lunch basket and a tin pail.
Tiptoeing his way perilously over the scantlings, laths and plaster, Addison made his way back to the rear end of the meetinghouse.

The honeycombs were mostly on a beam against the boards of the outer wall.
The punk smoke was so dense up there that he could hardly get his breath.

The bees, nearly torpid from the smoke, were crawling sluggishly along on the underside of the roof, and offered no resistance when Addison broke off the combs.
With his basket and pail well filled, he tiptoed back to the scuttle and handed the spoils to Uncle Hannibal, who instantly led the way down the back stairs and outdoors.
"We have despoiled the Egyptians!" he cried.