The Life of the Bee 
even, until at last she begins vaguely 
to understand that these little inflexible 
workers stand for a law before which that 
law must bend whereby she is inspired. 
And at last she goes, and wanders from 
comb to comb, her unsatisfied wrath find- 
ing vent in a war-song, or angry complaint, 
that every bee-keeper knows; resembling 
somewhat the note of a distant trumpet 
of silver; so intense, in its passionate 
feebleness, as to be clearly audible, in the 
evening especially, two or three yards 
from the double walls of the most carefully 
enclosed hive. 
Upon the workers this royal cry has a 
magical effect. It terrifies them, it in- 
duces a kind of respectful stupor; and 
when the queen sends it forth, as she 
halts in front of the cells whose approach 
is denied her, the guardians who have but 
this moment been hustling her, pushing 
her back, will at once desist, and wait, 
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