A ROMANCE OF ANATOMY 163 



tion appears to be largely voluntary with the 

 honey-bee. She breathes only when the necessity 

 for it arises, and will sometimes arrest the action 

 entirely for three or four minutes together. But 

 when the wax-making is going forward, or swarm- 

 ing-time is near at hand, the quick, vibratory 

 movement of respiration is visible everywhere in 

 the throng of bees, and the temperature of the 

 hive climbs up often to a dozen degrees above its 

 normal point. 



The breathing system of the honey-bee is 

 closely connected with her sound-organs. Any- 

 one asked to describe the note made by a bee 

 would probably say that she hums or buzzes, and 

 there would be an end to most ideas on the matter. 

 But to the beeman this is a pitifully inadequate 

 statement of the truth. The bee comprises in 

 herself not one, but a whole choir of voices, and 

 she has a compass of at least an octave and a half. 

 Every one of her fourteen spiracles, and each of 

 her wings, is capable of producing sound ; and 

 these sounds can be endlessly varied in quality, 

 intensity, and pitch. It is no exaggeration to say 

 that the honey-bee is as accomplished a musician 

 as any bird ; but as each individual voice is for 

 the most part lost in the general symphony of the 

 hive, it is difficult to get a complete idea of her 

 capabilities as a soloist. 



The voice-apparatus in the spiracles is one of 

 the most intricate things in the whole anatomy of 

 u — 2 



