The Tribulations of the Mason-bee 



time when the work of construction is in 

 progress, she is an impudent visitor of the 

 nests, exploiting with the same effrontery the 

 enormous cities of the Mason-bee of the 

 Sheds and the solitary cupolas of the Mason- 

 bee of the Pebbles. An innumerable popula- 

 tion, coming and going, humming and buz- 

 zing, strikes her with no awe. On the tiles 

 hanging from the walls of my porch, I see 

 her, with her red scarf round her body, stalk- 

 ing with sublime assurance over the ridged 

 expanse of nests. Her black schemes leave 

 the swarm profoundly indifferent; not one of 

 the workers dreams of chasing her off, unless 

 she should come bothering too closely. Even 

 then, all that happens is a few signs of impa- 

 tience on the part of the hustled Bee. There 

 is no serious excitement, no eager pursuits 

 such as the presence of a mortal enemy might 

 lead us to suspect. They are there in their 

 thousands, each armed with her dagger; any 

 one of them is capable of slaying the traitress; 

 and not one attacks her. The danger is not 

 suspected. 



Meanwhile, she inspects the work-yard, 

 moves freely among the ranks of the Masons 

 and bides her time. If the owner be absent, 

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