AT THE CITY GATES 53 



clothing, and a whole flying squadron of them 

 are shrilling vindictively about his ears. Nothing 

 will come of it, he knows, if only he can keep 

 still. But the tendency to turn and flee, or at 

 least to beat off these minatory atoms with wildly 

 waving arms, is all but irresistible for the novice. 

 It is only their way, he is assured, of expressing 

 or of satisfying their curiosity ; and, this being 

 done, they fly off harmlessly enough to give a 

 good report of him to the ruling powers within 

 the hive. But he knows that this report is 

 sometimes anything but good. At least, there 

 are a few luckless individuals in the world who 

 dare not venture within a dozen yards of a bee- 

 hive without being set upon unmercifully, and 

 chased by an angry squad of these tart virgins 

 for the space of a quarter-mile. Moreover, in 

 certain states of the weather — when thunder is 

 about, and the air is tense and still — bees will 

 often sheath their barbed daggers in any human 

 skin, even that of their owner, who has gone 

 among them daily all the season unmolested. 

 There is, therefore, a fateful element of chance 

 in all near watching of beehives, a sensation of 

 being under fire — fine discipline enough, but, for 

 the timorous, hardly to be reckoned among the 

 easy joys of existence. 



These first deterrents, however, being happily 

 overcome, the watcher is sure to be caught up, 

 sooner or later, in the sheer fascination of the 



