THE BEE. 99 



at first like anarchy and confusion ; but the spec- 

 tator soon finds every animal diligently employed, 

 and following one pursuit with a settled purpose. 

 Their teeth are the instruments by which they 

 model and fashion their various buildings, and 

 give them such symmetry and perfection. They 

 begin at the top of the hive, and several of them 

 work at a time at the cells, which have two faces. 

 If they are stinted with regard to time, they give 

 the new cells but half the depth which they 

 ought to have, leaving them imperfect till they 

 have sketched out the number of cells neces- 

 sary for the present occasion. The construction 

 of their combs costs them a great deal of la- 

 bour ; they are made by insensible additions, and 

 not cast at once in a mould, as some are apt to 

 imagine. There seems no end of their shaping, 

 finishing, and turning them neatly up. The cells 

 for their young are most carefully formed ; those 

 designed for lodging the drones are larger than 

 the rest, and that for the queen-bee the largest 

 of all. The cells in which the young brood are 

 lodged, serve at different times for containing 

 honey ; and this proceeds from an obvious cause : 

 every worm, before it is transformed into an au- 

 relia, hangs its old skin on the partitions of its 

 cell ; and thus, while it strengthens the wall, di- 

 minishes the capacity of its late apartment. The 

 same cell, in a single summer, is often tenanted 

 by three or four worms in succession, and the 

 next season by three or four more. Each worm 

 takes particular care to fortify the pannels of its 

 cell, by hanging up its spoils there : thus the par- 



