16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN 



My cell, always spoken of as the Queen Cell 

 by my loving Italian Master, looked for all 

 the world like a hanging peanut shell, only 

 the color of it was somewhat darker, between 

 that of taffy and chocolate. But I have 

 since found out that our cells are sometimes 

 almost black when they are left on the combs 

 of a hive by the bees for a long time, and 

 used as the birthplace of other queens. 



Well, up to this period I had never yet 

 had any consciousness of being hungry, any 

 more than an unborn baby has. Kind Na- 

 ture, which is the same as saying a great 

 and good Creator, had arranged that I 

 should be supplied with all I needed in the 

 way of food, that I might grow, be happy 

 when I came to myself, and fulfill some 

 divine design, which I think He has for 

 every beast, bird, insect or man. However, 

 since that era in my cell life I have dis- 

 covered that a portion of the individuals of 

 our colony of bees, termed Nurse Bees, who 

 are the very young ones, put what is called 

 Royal Jelly in the bottom of my cell im- 



