The Life of the Bee 



tied, fatuously pompous, swelled with 

 foolish, good-natured contempt ; harbour- 

 ing never a suspicion of the deep and 

 calculating scorn wherewith the workers 

 regard them, of the constantly growing 

 hatred to which they give rise, or of the 

 destiny that awaits them. For their 

 pleasant slumbers they select the snuggest 

 corners of the hive ; then, rising carelessly, 

 they flock to the open cells where the 

 honey smells sv/eetest, and soil with their 

 excrements the combs they frequent. The 

 patient workers, their eyes steadily fixed 

 on the future, will silently set things 

 right. From noon till three, when the 

 purple country trembles in blissful lassi- 

 tude beneath the invincible gaze of a 

 July or August sun, the drones will ap- 

 pear on the threshold. They have a 

 helmet made of enormous black pearls, 

 two lofty, quivering plumes, a doublet 

 of iridescent, yellowish velvet, an heroic 



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