66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN 



from their sire, the grand Prince Melapis, 

 and from myself, descended through genera- 

 tions of pure Italian Queens and Drones, 

 that my Master's little girl once more 

 pointed me out to him whose eyes were al- 

 ready upon me, saying excitedly, "Here she 

 is, papa. Poor little Queenie, to have to 

 travel so far and be shut up in a mail bag! 

 Will she smother, or get homesick, or sea 

 sick? Papa, don't send poor Queenie 

 away!" But when he informed her I 

 needed very little air, would be snug and 

 safe in the great mail pouches, had no na- 

 ture to be homesick and could not be rocked 

 into sea sickness, she said she was sorry 

 never to see me again, but would be content 

 if my Master was, and finally bid me 

 good-by in a very sweet way. Forthwith, 

 he picked me up with the thumb and first 

 finger of his left hand, drew from his pocket 

 a pair of dainty scissors, such as he fre- 

 quently used for this purpose, clipped off 

 the most of my wings on one side, and tucked 



