Through the open doorway tiptoed the first friend, Yellow Wasp.
»I have brought Flicker a little golden tray from the dwarfs,« she whispered. »He can put his medicine bottles on it. And I myself have brought him a salve of ribbon grass and balsam. Just a little rubbed on the chest will do wonders.«
Dr. Maybug gently rubbed Flicker’s chest with the salve, and Yellow Wasp watched eagerly, but Flicker still lay with closed eyes. Dr. Maybug turned and said, »Alas, he still lies in his thistle-down bed, all a-shake and a-shiver.« Yellow Wasp stood beside the little sisters and cried.
»Now, don’t worry,« hummed Bee, cheerily, as she came in. »I’ve brought a jar of clearest clover honey, just the thing for a sore throat. Let him swallow just a morsel, Dr. Maybug.«
Those dry hard lips of Flicker Firefly lay closed, and the drop they tried to force into his mouth rolled over his chin and on the pillow cover. Dr. Maybug wiped it off as he said sorrowfully,
