THE PASTORAL BEES. 67 
sides of the buckets. They will sometimes, in their 
eagerness, come about the boiling place and be over- 
whelmed by the steam and the smoke. But bees 
appear to be more eager for bread in the spring than 
for honey; their supply of this article, perhaps, does 
not keep as well as their stores of the latter; hence 
fresh bread, in the shape of new pollen, is diligently 
sought for. My bees get their first supplies from the 
catkins of the willows. How quickly they find them 
out. If but one catkin opens anywhere within range, 
a bee ison hand that very hour to rifle it, and it is a 
most pleasing experience to stand near the hive some 
mild April day and see them come pouring in with 
their little baskets packed with this first fruitage of 
the spring. They will have new bread now; they 
have been to mill in good earnest; see their dusty 
coats, and the golden grist they bring home with 
them. 
When a bee brings pollen into the hive, he ad- 
vances to the cell in which it is to be deposited and 
kicks it off as one might his overalls or rubber boots, 
making one foot help the other; then he walks off 
without ever looking behind him; another bee, one 
of the indoor hands, comes along and rams it down 
with his head and packs it into the cell as the dairy- 
maid packs butter into a firkin. 
The first spring wild-flowers, whose shy faces among 
the dry leaves and rocks are so welcome, yield no 
honey. The anemone, the hepatica, the bloodroot, 
the arbutus, the numerous violets, the spring beauty, 
the corydalis, ete., woo all lovers of nature, but do 
not woo the honey-loving bee. It requires more sun 
and warmth to develop the saccharine element, and 
the beauty of these pale striplings of the woods and 
