CHAPTER XV 



AFTER THE FEAST 



AS the year grows in the bee-garden, so it 

 goes, with all but imperceptible tread and 

 tread. In southern England, after the seed- 

 hay is down, there is little more for the bees to do 

 but prepare their hives for the coming winter. 

 The queen is slowly weaned from her absorption in 

 egg-laying by a gradual change in food. Day by 

 day she receives less of the mysterious bee-milk 

 which was her urging and inspiration ; day after 

 day she finds herself the more constrained to slake 

 her hunger at the open honey-cells with the com- 

 mon crowd. Every day sees fewer bee-children 

 born to the hive, and every day sees more and 

 more of the old workers — worn out with a short 

 six weeks or so of summer toil — pass away in that 

 inexplicable fashion, using, perchance, their last 

 strength of wing to hie them to the traditional 

 graveyard of their kind. What becomes of them 

 all, not the wisest among beemen knows ; but it is 

 certain that, as they lived by communal principle, 

 in the same faith they die ; and their last act may 



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