THE AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL. 



157 



lu the middle of the liivc I saw a loug 

 string of bees, reaching from the roof to 

 the tioor, each bee clinging to her neighbor, 

 :iud remaining motionless, while other bees 

 ran up and down, as though upon a ladder. 



' ' What is that ? " I asked my guide. 



^ "A bee-rope, " she replied, " a short cut 



from the top to the bottom of the hive." 



I remarked that I thought it might be 

 some kind of dance. 



"No," said she. "In the winter when 

 there is no work to be done, we sometimes 

 dance in the sunshine before the hive, but 

 never at any other time. We are too busy. " 



This seemed to me rather sad but I did 

 not say so. 



In the gallery Ave saw bees hurrying 

 about in all directions, too busy to notice 

 US', and never disturbing or interfering 

 with each other in the least. 



"These are our workers," said Deborah. 



"About how many of them are there?" 

 1 inquired. 



"There are 20,000 of us all told," she 

 replied, "one Queen, or Mother-bee, bless- 

 ■ ings on lier majesty ! some hundreds of 

 ( drones, and the rest workers." 



" They must be tired enough if they al- 

 ways work as fast as these do," I said. 



"No," replied Deborah, "they like it. 

 A true worker-bee is never content to be 

 idle. Would you like to see the Nurser- 

 ies ? " continued she. 



"Anything you please to show me," I 

 replied. 



We then turned through the side gallery 

 into a quiet corner of the hive, where we 

 found curious cradles or cells, of ditfereut 

 s^zes, made of the purest white wax. 



" Here the eggs are laid by our queen," 

 said Deborah, " generally about two hun- 

 dred a day, but often many more." 



"Then your Queen must be busy, as 

 well as the rest of you," I said. 



"No one works harder," replied my 

 guide. 



I thought of our beautiful Queen, with 

 her delicate wings, and felt that a bee-hive 

 Tjfe'as not much like Fairy -land. 



"And will these eggs ever turn into real 

 bees?" I asked. 



"Oh yes," said my guide, "in three or 

 four days they hatch into worms." 



"Something like catterpillars and butter- 

 flies?" I asked. 



"A little," she replied, " but in this case 

 tlje young worms are worth taking care of, 

 as the bees are valuable and industrious 

 persons, while buttertlies and idle and use- 

 less." 



" You are mistaken there," I said, "they 

 are useful to us fairies. In our long flights 

 we could not do without them." 

 . "Ah," said she, "I never heard of it be- 

 fore." 



"When the eggs turn into grubs or 



worms," continued she, "the workers find 

 plenty to do to take care of them. Each 

 little worm must be carefully fed for five 

 days, witli water, and bread, and honey." 



" What kind of bread ? " I asked. 



"Oh, bee-bread," she replied, " nothing 

 else Avould suit them. The cells are then 

 sealed up, that is, a nice lid or cover is put 

 upon each one, and the Utile worms must 

 take care of themselves for awhile. Every 

 worm is expected to line its cell neatly, 

 with a silken webbing, and tiien roll itself 

 up in a cocoon for a time. Ah ! we arc 

 just in time to see the cells closed." 



And, to be sure, there were attendant.s 

 sealing up the cells, a small white worm in 

 each. I must confess it made me shudder 

 to look at them for I never did like worms! 

 It is so dreadful to meet one in the folds 

 of a rose. 



But I fancied the little worms seemed un- 

 easy at the idea of being shut up, and so I 

 told my friend. 



"Ah well ! " said she, " It is the only way. 

 We all go though with it. Before many 

 days they will come out perfect bees.— 

 AVings and legs all right." 



"And must they go to work as soon as 

 they are out," I asked, "and not dance 

 once ? " 



" No," replied Deborah. " They are not 

 strong enough to fly until they have been 

 fed one or two days. Tlien they begin to 

 work in good earnest." 

 _ I observed that the cells were of difterent 

 sizes, and inquired the reason. 



" The largest and handsomest cells," re- 

 plied Deborah, "are for the young Queen 

 bees or Princesses. The next size for the 

 drones, and the smallest for the workers." 



" Can the cells be used more than once," 

 I asked, " or are they done with, like last- 

 year's bird's nests ? " 



"The royal cells are all destroyed when 

 they have been once used," she answered, 

 " but the others are cleansed and the silken 

 webbing is left to strengthen them, and 

 they are then better than ever." 



"How long does it take to turn from 

 eggs into bees?" I enquired. 



" Sixteen days for the Queen bee to be- 

 come a perfect insect. Twenty-four days 

 for the drones, and twenty-one for the 

 workers," she replied. i 



"And have the attendants nothing to do . 

 but to feed the little ones? " I asked. 



"Oh yes," said Deborah, " they attend 

 the Queen, do the fighting, prepare the 

 wax, make the combs or cells, collect the 

 honey by day, and store it by night, and 

 keep the hive in order. The drones lead 

 an idle life. They will die, rather than 

 work. They will not even feed themselves 

 if they can find any one else to do it. 

 And, to tell the truth, like all idlers in a 

 busy community, they are such a bother. 



