148 The Honey-Makers 



gathers this flower dust on the hairs of her body and then 

 stands and combs it out with her numerous combs and 

 brushes, deftly and quickly moistening it with honey when 

 necessary to knead it together, and passes it from leg to 

 leg until she has finally combed and scraped and rolled and 

 patted it into her pollen baskets. Then home she hies. 

 But we must let John Burroughs tell the rest. 



" When a bee brings pollen into the hive, he advances to 

 the cell in which it is to be deposited and kicks it off as one 

 might his overalls or rubber boots, making one foot help 

 the other ; then he walks off without ever looking behind 

 him ; another bee, one of the indoor hands, comes along 

 and rams it down with his head and packs it into the cell 

 as the dairy-maid packs butter into a firkin." 



If the bee has likewise a load of honey to deposit, she 

 stands over another cell — one devoted to honey — and 

 into this disgorges her precious drop of nectar. 



The bee's first care in the spring is to get fresh pollen. 

 This it seems to need more than honey and the polleny wil- 

 low catkins are alive with the eager provisioners. The 

 willow gives honey too, and whoever will take the trouble 

 to explore a willow catkin with a magnifying glass will be 

 rewarded by a view of the pearly drop in each tiny flowerlet. 



Sometimes the bee-keeper helps out the pollen pantry in 

 the early spring by giving his bees a supply of — rye flour or 

 oatmeal ! They are usually willing to substitute it for pol- 

 len, though it is difficult to understand how it can compare 

 with it in nutrient value. 



We of to-day know very little about bee-bread, as it never 

 is sold in the markets. But a generation ago people were 

 as familiar with the flavor of bee-bread as of honey. In the 

 old-fashioned box hives where the bees did everything for 

 themselves, and all in one large room, he who "robbed" 

 the bees found bee-bread and honey oftentimes in all the 



