AUTOCRAT OF THE BEE-GARDEN 193 
wrought, not by want o’ thought, but by too much 
of it. Bad beemanship is just giving bees time to 
think.”’ 
““Many’s the time,’’ continued the bee-master, 
thrusting the bowl of his empty pipe into the heart 
of the wood-embers for lustration, and taking a 
clean one down for immediate use from the rack 
over his head; ‘‘ many’s the time an’ oft it has come 
ower me that perhaps bees warn’t allers as we see 
them now. Maybe, way back in the times when 
England was a tropic country, tens of thousands o’ 
years ago, there was no call for them to live packed 
together in one dark chamber, as they do to-day. 
If the year was warm all the twelve months 
through, and flowers allers blooming, there ’ud be 
no need fer a winter-larder, nor fer any hives at all. 
Like as not each woman-bee lived by herself then, 
in some dry nook or other; made her little nest of 
comb, and brought up her own children, happy and 
comfortable. Maybe, even—and I can well believe 
it of her, knowing her natur’ as I do—she kept a 
gurt, buzzing, blusterous drone about the place an’ 
let him eat and drink in idleness while she did all 
the work, willing enough, for the two. Then, as 
the world slowly cooled down through the centuries, | 
there came a short time in each year when the 
flowers ceased to bloom, and the bees found they 
had to put by a store of honey, to last till the heat 
and the blossoms showed up again. And there was 
another thing they must have found out when the 
cold spell was over the earth. Bees that kept apart 
by themselves died of cold, but those that huddled 
together in crowds lived warm enough throughout 
the winter. The more there were of ’em the 
N 
