‘Honey. 143. 
the sun with dazzling sheen ; it is the gilding on the 
swinging wayside sign transformed forthe moment from 
a. wooden board rudely ornamented with a gilt sun, 
all rays and rotund cheeks, into a veritable oriflamme. 
There the men will assemble by-and-by, on the 
forms about the trestle table, and share each other's. 
quarts in the fellowship of labour. Or perhaps the 
work may be pressing, and the waggons are loaded 
till the white owl noiselessly flits along the hedgerow, 
and the round moon rises over the hills. Then those 
who have stayed to assist find their supper waiting 
for them in the brewhouse, and do it ample justice. 
Once during the morning, while busy in the hay- 
field, not so much with his hands as his eyes, 
watching that the ‘wallows’ may be turned over 
properly, and the ‘wakes’ made at a just distance 
from each other, that the waggon may pass easily 
between, the farmer is sure to be summoned home 
with the news of a swarm of bees. If the work be 
pressing, they must be attended to by deputy ; if not, 
he hurries home himself’; for although in these days’ 
bee-keeping is no longer what it used to be, yet the 
old-fashioned folk take a deep interest in the bees 
still. They tell you that ‘a swarm in May is worth 
a load of hay; a swarm in June is worth a silver 
spoon ; ‘but a swarm in July is not worth a fly’—for 
it is then too late for the young colony to store up a 
treasure of golden honey before the flowers begin to 
fade at the approach of autumn. 
