A ROMANCE OF ANATOMY 163 
tion appears to be largely voluntary with the 
honey-bee. She breathes only when the necessity 
for it arises, and will sometimes arrest the action 
entirely for three or four minutes together. But 
when the wax-making is going forward, or swarm- 
ing-time is near at hand, the quick, vibratory 
movement of respiration is visible everywhere in 
the throng of bees, and the temperature of the 
hive climbs up often to a dozen degrees above its 
normal point. 
The breathing system of the honey-bee is 
closely connected with her sound-organs. Any- 
one asked to describe the note made by a bee 
would probably say that she hums or buzzes, and 
there would be an end to most ideas on the matter. 
But to the beeman this is a pitifully inadequate 
statement of the truth. The bee comprises in 
herself not one, but a whole choir of voices, and 
she has a compass of at least an octave and a half. 
Every one of her fourteen spiracles, and each of 
her wings, is capable of producing sound; and 
these sounds can be endlessly varied in quality, 
intensity, and pitch. It is no exaggeration to say 
that the honey-bee is as accomplished a musician 
as any bird; but as each individual voice is for 
the most part lost in the general symphony of the 
hive, it is difficult to get a complete idea of her 
capabilities as a soloist. 
The voice-apparatus in the spiracles is one of 
the most intricate things in the whole anatomy of 
IIi--2 
