The Life of the Bee 
the most inoffensive bee will conceive itself 
caught in a trap if entangled in hair, and 
will infallibly use its sting) but, if he be 
experienced, wearing neither mask nor veil 
—having taken the precaution only of plung- 
ing his arms in cold water up to the elbow 
—he proceeds to gather the swarm by vigor- 
ously shaking the bough from which the 
bees depend over an inverted hive. Into 
this hive the cluster will fall as heavily as 
an over-ripe fruit. Or, if the branch be 
too stout, he can plunge a spoon into the 
mass and deposit where he will the living 
spoonfuls, as though he were ladling out 
corn. He need have no fear of the bees 
that are buzzing around him, settling on 
his face and his hands. The air resounds 
with their song of ecstasy, which is diffe- 
rent far from their chant of anger. He 
need have no fear that the swarm will divide, 
or grow fierce, will scatter, or try to escape. 
This is a day, I repeat, when a spirit of 
holiday would seem to animate these mys- 
terious workers, a spirit of confidence that 
apparently nothing can trouble. They have 
detached themselves from the wealth they 
102 
