CHAPTER X 
THE PHYSICIAN IN THE HIVE 
ig was a strange procession coming up the red- 
tiled path of the bee garden. The bee-master 
led the way in his Sunday clothes, followed by a 
gorgeous footman, powdered and cockaded, who 
carried an armful of wraps and cushions. Behind 
him walked two more, supporting between them a 
kind of carrying-chair, in which sat a florid old 
gentleman in a Scotch plaid shawl; and behind these 
again strode a silk-hatted, black-frocked man 
carefully regulating the progress of the cavalcade. 
Through the rain of autumn leaves, on the brisk 
October morning, I could see, afar off, a carriage 
waiting by the lane-side; a big old-fashioned family 
vehicle, with cockaded servants, a pair of champing 
greys, and a glitter of gold and scarlet on the panel, 
where the sunbeams struck on an elaborate coat-of- 
arms. 
The whole procession made for the extracting- 
house, and all work stopped at its approach. The 
great centrifugal machine ceased its humming. The 
doors of the packing-room were closed, shutting 
of the din of saw and hammer. Over the stone 
