70 BY MEADOW AND STREAM. 



" No doubt St. Patrick was an angler 



Of credit and renown, Sir, 

 And many shining trout he caught 



Ere he built Dublin town, Sir." 



HAVE BEES THE SENSE OF HEARING? 



We were sitting at breakfast one morning at the 

 farm on the Itchin not long ago, quietly eating our 

 toast, when, hark ! there's a row outside like a call to 

 arms? Fifes, clarions, and kettle-drums all rolled 

 into one most awful clatter. We rushed outside and 

 shouted "What's the matter?" Have the perfidious 

 French bored their hole under the Channel, and are 

 they now pouring up from the bowels of the earth in 

 Mid Kent? Or have a million Germans landed on 

 the Essex Marshes? Worse than all this. The 

 Bees are in rebellion, and the clatter arises from 

 the beating of pots and pans to keep them from all 

 swarming away. The row made, I suppose, is meant 

 to drown the guiding buzz of the leader of the rebellion. 

 At all events in this case the bees were so far con- 

 trolled as to cluster in an apple tree close by. Piscator 

 photographed them as they clung in masses round a 

 big branch of the tree, and the farmer, face and 

 hands covered, went up to them and scraped them off 

 the branch into a hive. He was not stung much a 

 mere trifle only three bees had got up his sleeve 

 they stung him, and he crunched them. 



If, however, it is true, as Sir John Lubbock seems 

 to imply, that bees have no sense of hearing, and he 

 tested them over and over again with the loudest and 

 shrillest noises he could make, then, unless as he 

 observes, their range of hearing is very different from 



