The Worker 149 



combs, and the brood comb scattered about with the rest. 

 Bee-bread and honey were spread together on the slices of 

 bread for the children's, delectation, and if the flavor of the 

 bee-bread was somewhat against the delicacy of the feast 

 the enjoyment of the children was not sensibly lessened 

 thereby. 



To-day bees sometimes store bee-bread in the sections 

 designed by the bee-keeper for pure honey, or they may 

 even put brood in them, but where this happens the sec- 

 tions are not sold and the public is none the wiser. 



Bees are thirsty souls and will fly long distances for 

 water if it is not obtainable near home. They take it to the 

 hive, probably to help in preparing food for the young. 



The writer recalls a glass tank of water plants standing 

 on the piazza of a Florida house where bees were always to 

 be seen in crowds, sitting on the floating leaves, clinging to 

 the stalks of the papyrus and edging the rim of the little 

 aquarium. 



The most troublesome cargo the bee carries is a sort of 

 glue or resin called propolis with which it insists upon 

 daubing over the whole inside of the hive. 



This sticky stuff is quite as troublesome to the bee- 

 keeper as to the bee. The keeper takes pains to have 

 the hives tight and clean, the bee takes pains to daub 

 everything over with propolis, spoiling the appearance of 

 the pretty white boxes provided for the honey-comb and 

 fastening everything tight and fast so that when the keeper 

 attempts to remove a section of honey ten to one he finds 

 it carefully glued fast to everything it touches, unless he is 

 on the watch to take it before the bee gets around to the 

 gluing act. 



Bees mix propolis with wax to strengthen the cells, chink 

 up every crevice and cranny, and if they are allowed will 

 oftentimes carefully varnish over the whole surface of 



