A ROMANCE OF ANATOMY 151 
in the same cell; and when the cell is full, a thin 
layer of honey is smeared over all, to preserve it 
from the air. When, however, time presses, the 
bee will not stop to knead up the load, but will 
carry it home as it is, arriving in the hive smothered 
completely from head to foot as with gold-dust. 
Then the house-bees gather round her, soon 
scraping her free of her encumbrance, and she 
starts off again for another load. 
The fact that insects can walk on both upper and 
under surfaces apparently with equal ease, is none 
the less remarkable because we see it going on 
every day of our lives. Yet the fly, crawling up the 
window-glass, or running about on the ceiling, 
owes his power of topsy-turvy perambulation to a 
very ingenious device. This is well illustrated in 
the foot of a bee. She has a pair of short, strong 
double claws, which will take her securely over all 
but the smoothest and shiniest surfaces; and it is 
with these claws that bees form themselves into 
dense clusters and knots and cables within the 
hive, holding hand-to-hand, as it were, in all direc- 
tions. But when there is nothing for the claw to 
hold by, another part of the foot comes into play. 
This is a soft, flexible pad, which is always covered 
by a thick, oily exudation. In walking, the bee 
puts her feet down three at a time, the pads ad- 
hering instantly they come into contact with the 
smooth surface. At the next step the other three 
pads come into play, while the first three are 
