The Swarm ij^ 



He would linger about the place where metheglin was 

 being made, and beg for it, calling it "bee-wine." He 

 ran about, making a humming noise like the buzzing of bees 

 with his lips, and was utterly stupid in everything excepting 

 the getting of honey. 



In the opinion of Thorley, — 



" The last and worst Enemies of all are their most in- 

 grateful, unjust, cruel, and merciless Owners, who annually 

 destroy them by wholesale without the least Pity or Com- 

 passion. A practise I absolutely disapprove and publickly 

 condemn." 



Bees, like other creatures, are subject to disease, a fact 

 thus commented upon by Pliny : — 



" Bees are also by nature liable to certain diseases of their 

 own. The sign that they are diseased is a kind of torpid, 

 moping sadness ; on such occasions, they are to be seen 

 bringing out those that are sick before the hives, and plac- 

 ing them in the warm sun, while others, again, are providing 

 them with food. Those that are dead they carry away from 

 the hive, and attend the bodies, paying their last duties, as 

 it were, in funeral procession. 



" If the king should happen to be carried off by the pesti- 

 lence, the swarm remains plunged in grief and listless in- 

 activity ; it collects no more food, and ceases to issue forth 

 from its abode ; the only thing that it does is to gather 

 around the body, and to emit a melancholy humming noise. 

 Upon such occasions, the usual plan is to disperse the 

 swarm and take away the body ; for otherwise they would 

 continue listlessly gazing upon it, and so prolong their grief. 

 Indeed, if due care is not taken to come to their aid, they 

 will die of hunger. It is from their cheerfulness, in fact, 

 and their bright and sleek appearance that we usually form 

 an estimate as to their health." 



This fancy sketch of their maladies does not truly repre- 



