OHAPTER XITI 
THE SONG OF THE HIVES 
FROM the lane, where it dipped down between 
its rose-mantled hedges, nothing of the bee- 
garden could be seen. The dense barricade of 
briar and hawthorn hid all but the lichened roof of 
the ancient dwelling-house; and strangers going by 
on their. way to the village saw nothing of the 
crowding hives, and marked little else than the 
usual busy murmur of insect-life common to any 
sunny day in June. 
But when they came out of the green tunnel of 
hedgerows into the open fields beyond, chance way- 
farers always stopped and looked about them 
wonderingly, at length fixing a puzzled glance 
intently on the blue sky itself. At this corner, and 
nowhere else, seemingly, the air was full of a deep, 
reverberant music. A steady torrent of rich sound 
streamed by overhead; and yet, to the untutored 
observer, the most diligent scrutiny failed to reveal 
its origin. A few gnats harped in the sunbeams. 
Now and again a bumble-bee struck a deep chord or 
two in the wayside herbage underfoot. But this 
clear, strong voice from the skies was altogether 
unexplainable. To human sight, at least, the blue 
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