1883 



JUVENILE GLEANINGS. 



175 



I know not with what love nor with what food. (1) 

 Fresh scales of wax they forge with cunning art, 

 And make iheir honey firm in every part. (2) 



SWARMING. 



When now at length, emerging from their caves, 

 To swim through summer's liquid, airy waves, 

 You shall behold a swarm ascend the skj% 

 Drawn by the wind as a dark cloud on high; 

 Then mark them well, thou surely shalt admire. 

 If nature's wonders feed thy soul's desire. 



AUTOMATIC HIVING. 



They always seek, to crown their festive hour. 

 Sweet waters, and withal a leafy bower. 

 Here strew the flavors that they deem superb — 

 Bruised balm and honeysuckle's common hei-b. 

 Kattle the tin, and clash the cymbal? round, (;>) 

 And they'll to medicated spots come down. 

 By their own laws, that ever guide their lives, 

 Straightway they'll place themselves within the 

 hives. ( 1) 



BEES ON A RAMPAGE. 



But if, indeed, to battle for-th they go 



(For discord oft with overwhelming throe (')) 



Hath seized two kings), then straightway 'tis allowed 



To ken before the purpose of the crowd. 



And their fierce hearts all quivering for the war; 



For those delaying ones who strife abhor, 



A veritable martial song inspires, rt!) 



Of rasping air, to kindle anger's fires. 



And voice is heard, a voice that swells and rolls 



Like trumpets' sound to strengthen feeble souls. 



Then rush they 'mong themselves, and flash their 



wings. 

 And move their pincers, and thrust out their stings; 

 Thus practicing in drill they move aright. 

 And strengthen all their members for the fight. 

 Them round the king and royal court they ball, (V) 

 With clamor grt at for worthy foe they call. 

 Therefore when first they gain a bright spring day,(S) 

 With open plains of air afar away. 

 Like a volcano restless, surging o'er. 

 Forth from the gates a living tide they pour. 

 They charge; and in high air there swells a sound; 

 Mingled, a great orb, they wheel around and round; 

 Headlong they plunge; not thicker down the gale 

 From the great oak the beaten acorns hail. {!>) 

 Down through the middle ranks the flying kings. 

 Distinguished over all by royal wings; 

 Great, noble souls in narrow breasts revolve. 

 Determined not to yield, with stern resolve. 

 Until the victor, in his conquering might. 

 Compels or these or these to give their backs in 



flight. (10) 

 Such tumults of their minds, such strifes adjust 

 By throwing o'er them bandfuls of fine dust. (11) 



Mercy on us I who's going to stand in the road and 

 try it, when it rains such little "pizen pitchforks" 

 as these? Let's "light out" as quick as we can. 

 Let's try to think if there isn't a bee-keepers' con- 

 vention somewhere that we can go to. 



(1) No line we have yet come to shows so plainly 

 the wisdom and modesty of the great author we are 

 studying than this. To perceive how little we know, 

 and how much that is of interest is yet to be found 

 out, is a state of mind that fools do not attain to. 

 Virgil was wise enough to raise two important ques- 

 tions here, and confess his ignorance in regard to 

 both of them; namely. Are bees capable of feelings 

 of affection? and. What is the nature of the food 

 given to their young? I suppose most of the thou- 



sands of sophomores who have gone over this have 

 said to themselves, "Humph! all creatures love 

 their young; and the bees feed their young, honey, 

 of coui-sc." Well, they don't feed them honey, at 

 least not at first; and the precise nature of the food 

 used is a problem that modern investigators are 

 still digging away at, like dogs at a woodchucli-hole. 



As to the first question, I guess we have pretty 

 much come to the conclusion that bees have not a 

 spark of affection about them. Whether feeding a 

 starving comrade, or helping to murder a young 

 queen in her cell, or nourishing the newlj' hatched 

 larviK, or turning ranniliais and eating them up, 

 they seem to be guided by a stern sense of destiny 

 that has in it no more of tenderness than there is in 

 the soul of a buzz-saw. Oh, they're curious crea- 

 tures, these bees of oui-sl 



While watching some bees I saw one of them at- 

 tack one of his companions. I suppose ho decided 

 him to be an invalid that would be of no use in the 

 colony. He was smart enough, however, to make a 

 long struggle for his life; but at length he was over- 

 powered and stung to death. I saw him curl up and 

 die. I guess the rest of the bees didn't think he 

 needed killing; at any rate none of them took hold 

 to help, as they usually do when there is a muss. 

 Well, the murderer briskly brushed himself and ran 

 to a bystander, as much as to say, "I've done my 

 duty, but 'twas dreadful hard work; can't you give 

 a fellow a little honey?" And so his comrade dis- 

 gorged some honey and fed him; and I felt very 

 much disgusted with the whole business. 



(3) This is the place, I believe, where the ridiculous 

 charge is made against Virgil, that he taught that 

 bees make their honey. You see, it looks diflerently 

 through my spectacles— just the difference between 

 making their "tcnax" honey, and making their 

 honey "tenax." If we did not know, as we as- 

 suredly do, that Virgil was a careful and well-in- 

 formed bee-man, we should still be bound to take 

 his statements in a sense that would be tenable, and 

 not absurd, until obliged to understand them other- 

 wise. 



(o) Well, if Virgil did tell us to kick up a rumpus 

 when the bees swarm, it doesn't do any harm; and 

 nobody has proved but that it may do a little good. 



(4) You see, it is not merely keeping the bees from 

 going off that our author is driving at, but making 

 them go into the hive prepared for them just of 

 their own selves. Such an undertaking succeeds 

 once in a while —just often enough to keep bee-men 

 experimenting at it. Some considerable improve- 

 ments have been made since Virgil's time. One is, 

 to have a number of decoy hives placed around in 

 distant tree-tops. Another, is to put a decoy, made 

 in imitation of a cluster of bees, on the top of a bal- 

 anced pole, which swings down with the bees when 

 they alight on it, and deposits them at the enfrance 

 of their future home. 



(5) Here is a striking example of how a long series 

 of actual facts, minutely given in detail, can be mis- 

 apprehended. The performances spoken of in this 

 paragraph are those that precede and accompany 

 what is called " swarming-out." Virgil, seeing no 

 other rational cause for these movements, attrib- 

 utes them to the growth of a martial and belligerent 

 spirit. The fact seems to be, that swarmlng-out is 

 sometimes entirely irrational, ruinous as it is need- 

 less, and arising from protracted idleness and dis- 

 content. Usually, however, we may regard it as 



