FORTY YEARS AMONG THE BEES. 223 



shall. A bee inside my clothing makes me very nervous, 

 and I cannot go on in comfort at my work with a feeling 

 of uncertainty as to where and when its little javelin 

 shall pierce my flesh. If I feel it crawling on me, and 

 then cease to feel it because it is on the clothing and not 

 on the skin, I am in momentary dread as to where it 

 shall turn up next; and it is a real relief when it stings 

 me, for I know then the precise spot where it is, and have 

 no further expectations from it. 



BEE-VEIL. ■ 



So I seldom go among the bees without a veil. I 

 may not have it over my face, but it is on the hat, ready 

 to be pulled down at any time. The veil is made of in- 

 expensive material, called by milliners cape-lace or cape- 

 net. It is 21 inches wide. A piece is cut off as long as 

 the circumference of the brim of a straw hat, and both 

 ends sewed together. Shirr a rubber cord in one end of 

 this open bag, thoroughly soak or wash out the starch, 

 and sew the other end on the edge of the hat-brim. It 

 is important for the eye-sight that the stuff of the veil be 

 black, but the black coloring crocks one's clothing. So 

 of late years a border of white cloth is sewed on the veil 

 to receive the rubber cord. 



The rubber cord holds the veil close about one's 

 neck, yet not close enough but what a bee sometimes gets 

 under it. Although a bee is not at all likely to sting 

 when it gets inside a veil, it is just as well to have it re- 

 main outside. So my assistant devised the plan of draw- 

 ing the veil down very tightly in front, and pinning it to 

 her waist with a safety-pin. Seeing it work so well with 

 her, I have also adopted the plan, pinning to my suspen- 

 ders on one side, or to my vest if I have one on. 



Sometimes a face-piece of silk net is sewed in the 

 veil. Instead of having the veil sewed to my hat, so that 



