THE REPENTANCE OF MAY 195 



gemmed the pear blossoms ; rain came and swept 

 them to the ground. They came again, and began to 

 dig their holes in the lawn, but the wind rolled them 

 in the dust, destroying them in hundreds. Now we 

 have them again, a far livelier generation, restlessly 

 sunning themselves on the laurel leaves, determined 

 to enjoy themselves a while before rubbing their gold 

 jackets away in mining operations. There has been 

 a hard check, also, given to the hive-bees. The 

 blossoms have not yielded nectar as they should, and 

 the winning of such nectar as there was has been far 

 more costly than usual. After many cold days, the 

 sycamores were able one morning to brew a little 

 honey. But the bees that came for it were like ships 

 in a tornado. Sometimes they were blown away to 

 leeward, sometimes plunged headlong beyond the 

 blossom they tried to reach, and many a merchant 

 started home far too crippled to reach the hive. The 

 stocks dwindled at a rapid rate, and, because there 

 was little pollen brought in, the nurses failed to make 

 up the waste. Cold nights contracted the cluster, 

 and for an important week or more the queen almost 

 ceased to lay eggs. There will be a week soon, and 

 that about swarming-time, when no bees are hatching 

 out, and the pressure that sends the swarm out will 

 come a good deal later than usual. The "swarm 

 in May that is worth a load of hay " will be the 

 exception, the mere silver spoonsworth of June being 

 the rule. 



Still, those to whom bees are the merest side interest 

 will smile through that misfortune if certain other 

 insects have been checked to a corresponding extent. 

 The gardener believes that the blight has received a 



