Truman headed home from school, with the homework in mind, a report on beehives (蜂巢). Truman's class had studied bees for three days, so he was ready. But, as his teacher Mrs. Lawrence had explained, to earn an A +，he needed a “new angle”.
Truman pushed open the front door to find his four-year-old brother, Bryan, sitting on the living room rag, hard at work. Paper towel tubes were all over the floor.
Bryan quickly stood up. “Truman, help me build a city!”
“I'd like to,” Truman replied, “but I have to do a report on beehives and ...”
“Can I help you?” Bryan begged.
“I don't think so, Bry. Sorry.''
“I know where there's a beehive.” Bryan smiled.
“Where?”
“In the wood pile by the garage.''
The boys marched to the firewood. Bending down, Bryan pointed out the hive deep inside the pile. Truman carefully removed the hive out.
“You got it!” Bryan shouted.
Back in the living room, Truman paced around, turning the fragile hive under his nose. Each cell was a perfect hexagon(六边形). How did the bees fit the cells together so neatly? And how did they make each cell six-sided? Could they count? Lost in thought, his foot came down on something ...
“Truman! You're mining my city!”
“Get your stupid tubes out of here，Bryan! I'm trying to…”
The towel tubes on the floor suddenly reminded him of something. The beehive!
Looking closer, he noticed the tubes were arranged with one in the middle, surrounded by six others, just like the cells of the hive.
Just to be sure, he tried five and then seven tubes surrounding the center tubes, but neither way fit. Six was the only number that worked.
“Bees don't count to six,” he said aloud. “The cells have to be six-sided.
Truman ran to Bryan and threw his arms around his brother. Bryan, you did it! Now I can build a model beehive with your tubes! I mean — if it's O. K. with you.”
