MY WOODLAND INTIMATES 



furnished dwelling, where they will immediately 

 proceed to lay the foundation of a new republic. 



I came here the other day with the intention 

 of making a close study of the little creatures, 

 but although the owner of the hives could sit 

 with impunity almost at the door of the little 

 dwellings, an angry delegation greeted even my 

 distant advances, and I retreated hastily and ig- 

 nominiously before the fierce little insects' wrath. 

 I now take my observations from a somewhat re- 

 mote point. 



The wonderful process known as swarming 

 took place here three or four days ago, and a sec- 

 ond exodus is looked for at almost any time. I 

 should be glad to think that this beautiful day is 

 to be for some portion of this little community 

 what Maeterlinck calls a " festival of honey." 

 " The one day of forgetfulness and folly, the 

 only Sunday known to the bees. It would ap- 

 pear to be also the solitary day upon which all 

 eat their fill and revel to their hearts' content in 

 the delights of the treasure themselves have 

 amassed. . . . They have left trouble be- 

 hind and care. They no longer are meddling 

 and fierce, aggressive, suspicious, untamable, 

 angry. On this day man can approach them, 



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