50 MY FARM. 



it was the moth that found its way into their hives ; 

 sometimes it was an invasion of piratical ants ; and 

 every summer I observe that a few gallant king birds 

 take up their station near by, and pounce upon the 

 flying scouts, as they go back with their golden 

 booty. 



I have not the heart to shoot the king birds ; nor 

 do I enter very actively into the battle of the bees 

 against the moths, or the ants ; least of all, do I 

 interfere in the wars of the bees among themselves, 

 which I have found, after some observation, to bo 

 more destructive and ruinous, than any war with 

 foreign foes.* I give them fair play, good lodging, 

 limitless flowers, willows bending (as Virgil advises) 

 into the quiet water of a near pool ; I have even read 

 up the stories of poor blind Huber, who so loved the 

 bees, and the poem of Giovanni Rucellai, for their 

 benefit : if they cannot hold their sceptre against the 

 tender-winged moths, who have no cruel stings, or 

 against the ants, or the wasps, or give over their 

 satanic quarrels with their kindred, let them abide 

 the consequences. I will not say, however, but that 



* The Rev. Charles Butler, in his &quot; Feminine Monarchic &quot; (Lon 

 don, 1609), after speaking in Chapter VII of &quot;Deir Enemies,&quot; 

 continues: &quot;But not any one of des e , nor all des e togeder, doo 

 half so muc harm to de Bees, as de Bees. Apis api, ut homo homi- 

 m, Lupus. Dey mak dc greatest spoil bot of bees and of hoonie. 

 Dis robbing is practised all dc yeer.&quot; 



