A ROMANCE OF ANATOMY 153 



baffled nature, do not tend to loveliness in any of 

 her sex. But her positive and almost terrifying 

 ugliness, when looked at so disadvantageously, is 

 soon forgotten as one comes to realise her 

 abounding possession of that other kind of beauty 

 — the beauty of utility. 



To the naked eye her tongue is a bright brown, 

 shining piece, protruding from her mouth, and 

 hanging down with much the same appearance as 

 an elephant's trunk. Under the microscope it is 

 soon seen that this is not a tongue in the proper 

 sense, but a continuation of the under-lip. It 

 consists of six or seven different parts capable of 

 being fitted together lengthways. There is a 

 central part, longer than the rest, with a hairy 

 spatula at its end, and when the other parts are 

 closed about this, the whole virtually forms a tube 

 within a tube. The spatula does the lapping 

 when only minute quantities of fluid have to be 

 taken up, and these pass into the mouth more by 

 capillary attraction than by actual sucking; but 

 when there is a brimming cup of nectar to be 

 emptied, the whole mechanism of the tongue is 

 brought into play. The longitudinal strips are 

 placed together edge to edge, and the liquid is 

 drawn out of the flower-cup by the action of the 

 tongue-muscles in much the same way as water is 

 lifted by a pump. 



Now that we have the head of the bee under 

 observation, many curious things about it can be 



