64 THE LORE OF THE HONEY-BEE 



forward round the gates of the bee-city. Certain 

 among these stay-at-home bees seem to exercise 

 a sort of common overseership. They help those 

 weighed down with too heavy a cargo to reach 

 the city gates. If a lump of pollen is dropped in 

 the general scuffle, these bees seize it and take it 

 into the hive. Sometimes a bee comes eddying 

 downward, smothered from head to foot with 

 pollen, like a golden miller, and she is immedi- 

 ately pounced upon by these superintendents, and 

 combed free of her incommodious treasure. Others 

 see to the grooming of the young bees, about to 

 essay their first flight. The youngster sits up, 

 protruding her tongue to its fullest extent, while 

 half a dozen bees gather round her, licking and 

 stroking her on every side. At last her toilette is 

 done, and she is liberated, when, with a little flutter 

 of her wings, she lifts high into the blue air and sun- 

 shine and makes off with the rest to the clover-fields, 

 glittering afar off in the joyous midday light. 



Forinsensiblythe hours have worn on — itis noon 

 — and the tense thronging life, the deep rich labour- 

 song, of the bee-garden seem to have reached their 

 height. But suddenly a greater noise than ever 

 arises on all sides : a steady stream of bees, larger 

 and bulkier than the rest, is pouring out of every 

 hive. The drones, the lazy brothers of these labo- 

 rious vestals, have roused at last from their sleep, 

 and are coming abroad for their daily flight. In 

 twos and threes, in whole battalions, they hustle out, 



