48 BEES. 
means of getting at nature and the open-air exhilarax 
tion, my eye became so trained that bees were nearly 
as easy to itas birds. I saw and heard bees wherever 
I went. One day, standing on a street corner in a 
great city, I saw above the trucks and the traffic a line 
of bees carrying off sweets from some grocery or con-. 
fectionery shop. 
One looks upon the woods with a new interest when 
he suspects they hold a colony of bees. What a 
pleasing secret it is; a tree with a heart of comb- 
honey, a decayed oak or maple with a bit of Sicily or 
Mount Hymettus stowed away in its trunk or branches ; 
secret chambers where lies hidden the wealth of ten 
thousand little freebooters, great nuggets and wedges 
of precious ore gathered with risk and labor from 
every field and wood about. 
But if you would know the delights of bee-hunt- 
ing, and how many sweets such a trip yields beside 
honey, come with me some bright, warm, late Sep- 
tember or early October day. Itis the golden season 
of the year, and any errand or pursuit that takes us 
abroad upon the hills or by the painted woods and 
along the amber colored streams at such a time is 
enough. So, with haversacks filled with grapes and 
peaches and apples and a bottle of milk, — for we 
shall not be home to dinner,—and armed with a 
compass, a hatchet, a pail, and a box with a piece of 
comb-honey neatly fitted into it — any box the size of 
your hand with a lid will do nearly as well as the elab- 
orate and ingenious contrivance of the regular bee- 
hunter — we sally forth. Our course at first lies along 
the highway, under great chestnut-trees whose nuts 
are just dropping, then through an orchard and 
across a little creek, thence gently rising through a 
; 
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