256 BEES SWARMING. 



livelong night nothing comes of it, and the morning sun rises 

 on nothing but the same scene and sound of agitated turmoil. 



From tokens such as these, an ordinary keeper of Bees 

 would merely surmise that a swarm was coming, and an old- 

 fashioned village dame would be sure by this time to be getting 

 in readiness her frying-pan and iron ladle, to ring the parting 

 colony to their new abode. But there are those who have pre- 

 tended to see much farther through Bee confusion, and to enter 

 much deeper into Bee councils. In the midst of all this bustle 

 of movement and Babel of sound, they would distinguish, shrill 

 above the murmur of her subjects, the authoritative voice of the 

 queen-mother about to lead, or at all events to accompany, the 

 departing swarm of emigrants. They, doubtless, would be able 

 to report correctly, the sovereign's harangue on this impor- 

 tant occasion, more full, doubtless, of significance than royal 

 speeches are wont to be, combining the pathetic, the dictato- 

 rial, and the cheering, farewell and counsel to the body of 

 her people to be left at home, command and encouragement to 

 the party about to attend her to a new settlement. 



Mid-day now approaches; the royal speech is ended, the ap- 

 plauding murmurs have subsided, farewells are taken, and the 

 body of emigrants rush forth, headed, or, it may be, followed by 

 their sovereign lady. These, however, we mean not to accom- 

 pany even to the adjacent bough on which they have settled, 

 most likely for a temporary rest, because we shall see more by 

 keeping to the parent hive, through the portal of which we 



