On the Threshold of the Hive 



twelve domes of straw, some of which he 

 had painted a bright pink, and some a 

 clear yellow, but most of all a tender 

 blue ; having noticed, long before Sir 

 John Lubbock's demonstrations, the bees' 

 fondness for this colour. 



These hives stood against the wall of 

 the house, in the angle formed by one of 

 those pleasant and graceful Dutch kit- 

 chens whose earthenware dresser, all bright 

 with copper and tin, reflected itself through 

 the open door on to the peaceful canal. 

 And the water, burdened with these fami- 

 liar images beneath its curtain of poplars, 

 led one's eyes to a calm horizon of mills 

 and of meadows. 



Here, as in all places, the hives lent a 

 new meaning to the flowers and the silence, 

 the balm of the air and the rays of the 

 sun. One seemed to have drawn very 

 near to the festival spirit of nature. One 

 was content to rest at this radiant cross- 



