The Swarm 
it is rarely indeed that I have found one 
of them in the delirious throng of the 
swarm. 
24 
And yet, the attraction must seem irre- 
sistible. It is the ecstasy of the perhaps 
unconscious sacrifice the god has ordained ; 
it is the festival of honey, the triumph of 
the race, the victory of the future; the 
one day of joy, of forgetfulness and folly; 
the only Sunday known to the bees. It 
would appear to be also the solitary day 
upon which all eat their fill, and revel, 
to heart’s content, in the delights of the 
treasure themselves have amassed. It is 
as though they were prisoners to whom 
freedom at last had been given, who had 
been suddenly led to a land of refresh- 
ment and plenty. They exult, they cannot 
contain the joy that is in them. They 
come and go aimlessly—they whose every 
movement has always its precise and use- 
ful purpose—they depart and return, sally 
forth once again to see if the queen be 
ready, to excite their sisters, to beguile 
. es 
