38 THE BEE-MASTER OF WARRILOW 
towns who have to earn their own bread; and they 
do it usually by trying to compete with men in walks 
of life for which they are wholly unsuited. Now, 
why do they not come out into the pure air and 
quiet of the countryside, and take up any one of 
several pursuits open there to a refined, well-bred 
woman? Everywhere the labourers are forsaking 
the land and crowding into the cities. That is a 
farmers’ problem, with which, of course, women 
have nothing to do. The rough, heavy work in 
the cornfields must always be done either by men 
or machinery. But there are certain employments, 
even in the country, that women can invariably 
undertake better than men, and bee-keeping is one 
of them. The work is light. It needs just that 
delicacy and deftness of touch that only a woman 
can bring to it. It is profitable. Above all, there 
is nothing about it, from first to last, of an 
objectionable character, demanding masculine inter- 
ference. In poultry-farming, good as it is for 
women, there must always be a stony-hearted man 
about the place to do unnameable necessary things 
in a fluffy back-shed. But bee-keeping is clean, 
clever, humanising, open-air work—essentially 
women’s work all through.” 
She had led the way through the scented old- 
fashioned garden, towards a gate in the farther wall, 
talking as she went. Now she paused, with her 
hand on the latch. 
‘‘ This,’? she said, ‘‘ we call the Transition Gate. 
It divides our work from our play. On this side 
of it we have the tennis-court and the croquet, and 
other games that women love, young or old. But 
it is all serious business on the other side. And 
