THE DRONE. 79 



163. There is something cruel in the habits of the bee. 

 Whenever one of them becomes unable to work from some 

 cause or other, if she does not perish in her efforts to go to 

 the fields, the other bees drag her out pitilessly ; their love 

 being concentrated ou the whole family, not on a single 

 individual. Yet, when one is hurt, and complains, hundreds 

 of others resent the injury and are ready to avenge her. 



184. Notched and ragged wings and shiny bodies, in- 

 stead of gray hairs and wrinkled faces, are the signs of old 

 age in the bee, indicating that its season of toil will soon be 

 over. They appear to die rather suddenly ; and often spend 

 their last days, and even their last hours, in useful labors. 



Place yourself before a hive, and see the indefatigable 

 energj- of these industrious veterans, toiling along with their 

 heavy burdens, side by side with their more youthful com- 

 peers, and then judge if, while qualified for useful labor, 

 you ought ever to surrender yourself to slothful indulgence. 



Let the cheerful hum of their busy old age inspire you 

 with better resolutions, and teach you how much nobler it 

 is to die with harness on, in the active discharge of the du- 

 ties of life. 



The Drones. 



185. The drones are the male bees. They are much 

 larger and stouter than either the queen or workers ; although 



their bodies are not quite so long 

 as that of the queen. They have 

 no sting (78) with which to de- 

 fend themselves ; and no suitable 

 proboscis (48) for gathering 

 honey from the flowers ; no baskets 

 on their thighs (69) for holding 

 ^g- 81. bee-bread, and no pouches (201) 



on their abdomens for secreting wax. They are, therefore, 

 physically disqualified for the ordinary work of the hive. 



