58 THE LORE OF THE HONEY-BEE 
alone. Going out into an English lane or meadow 
to watch the bees at work, the first conviction 
borne in upon an observer is that the bees are 
darting about from flower to flower without other 
thought than to load up from any and every 
capable blossom that stands in their way. But 
closer scrutiny reveals a curious plan and order in 
this, as in everything else that the honey-bee 
undertakes. Tracing an individual bee in her 
progress along the flowery verge of the lane, 
you will soon see that she visits only one species 
of blossom. If she starts on hawthorn, it will be 
hawthorn all the way. If her load of willowherb- 
nectar or pollen is not yet a full one, she will 
overpass a score of tansy-knots or waving jungles 
of meadow-sweet, just as inviting and resourceful, 
apparently, to reach the one scanty patch of purple 
at the end of the lane. 
Why she should be at such pains to keep the 
pollen separate as she gathers it, only to get it in- 
extricably mingled with every other kind in the 
storehouse at home, is a problem that none but a 
bee can solve. But all the honey-bee’s reasons 
and motives in life are made up of a curious blend 
of cold-drawn sense and sentiment ; and it may be 
inferred that need and fancy have an equal influ- 
ence in guiding her in this, as in everything else 
she does, from her cradle-cell to her grave. Not 
altogether without seriousness, it may be hazarded 
that quite as probable a reason for her way of 
