56 BEES. 
a special antipathy toward certain persons and a lik- 
ing for certain others has only this fact at the bottom 
of it; they will sting a person who is afraid of them 
and goes skulking and dodging about, and they will 
not sting a person who faces them boldly and has no 
dread of them. They are like dogs. The way to 
disarm a vicious dog is to show him you do not fear 
him ; it is his turn to be afraid then. I never had 
any dread of bees and am seldom stung by them. I 
have climbed up into a large chestnut that contained 
a swarm in one of its cavities and chopped them out 
with an ax, being obliged at times to pause and brush 
the bewildered bees from my hands and face, and not 
been stung once. I have chopped a swarm out of 
an apple-tree in June and taken out the cards of 
honey and arranged them in a hive, and then dipped 
out the bees with a dipper, and taken the whole 
home with me in pretty good condition, with scarcely 
any opposition on the part of the bees. In reach- 
ing your hand into the cavity to detach and remove 
the comb you are pretty sure to get stung, for when 
you touch the “ business end” of a bee, it will sting 
even though its head be off. But the bee carries the 
antidote to its own poison. The best remedy for bee 
sting is honey, and when your hands are besmeared 
with honey, as they are sure to be on such occasions, 
the wound is scarcely more painful than the prick of 
a pin. Assault your bee-tree, then, boldly with your 
ax, and you will find that when the honey is exposed 
every bee has surrendered and the whole swarm is 
cowering in helpless bewilderment and terror. Our 
tree yields only a few pounds of honey, not enough 
to have lasted the swarm till January, but no matter: 
we have the less burden to carry. 
