The Swarm 
need have no fear of the bees that are 
buzzing around him, settling on his face 
and hands. The air resounds with their 
song of ecstasy, which is different 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 holi- 
day 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 had to defend, and they 
no longer recognise their enemies. They 
become inoffensive because of their hap- 
piness, though why they are happy we 
know not, except it be because they are 
obeying their law. A moment of such 
blind happiness is accorded by nature at 
times to every living thing, when she 
seeks to accomplish her end. Nor need 
we feel any surprise that here the bees are 
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