OF SELBORNE. 189 



LETTER XXVII. 



TO THE SAME. 



Selborne, Dec. 12, 1775. 

 DEAR SIR, 



WE had in this village more than twenty years ago an idiot- 

 boy, whom I well remember, who, from a child, shewed a 

 strong propensity to bees; they were his food, his amusement, 

 his sole object. And as people of this cast have seldom more 

 than one point in view, so this lad exerted all his few faculties 

 on this one pursuit. In the winter he dosed away his time, 

 within his father's house, by the fire-side, in a kind of torpid 

 state, seldom departing from the chimney-corner ; but in the 

 summer he was all alert, and in quest of his game in the 

 fields, and on sunny banks. Honey-bees, humble-bees, and 

 wasps, were his prey wherever he found them : he had no 

 apprehensions from their stings, but would seize them nudis 

 manibus, and at once disarm them of their weapons, and suck 

 their bodies for the sake of their honey-bags. Sometimes he 

 would fill his bosom between his shirt and his skin with a 

 number of these captives ; and sometimes would confine them 

 in bottles. He was a very merops apiaster, or bee-bird; and 

 very injurious to men that kept bees ; for he would slide into 

 their bee-gardens, and, sitting down before the stools, would 

 rap with his finger on the hives, and so take the bees as they 

 came out. He has been known to overturn hives for the sake 

 of honey, of which he was passionately fond. Where metheg- 

 lin was making he would linger round the tubs and vessels, 

 begging a draught of what he called bee-wine. As he ran 

 about he used to make a humming noise with his lips, 

 resembling the buzzing of bees. This lad was lean and 

 sallow, and of a cadaverous complexion ; and, except in his 

 favourite pursuit, in which he was wonderfully adroit, dis- 

 covered no manner of understanding. Had his capacity been 



