54 
BEES AND BEE-KEEPING. 
By dissolving the wax of the cell, we isolate the cast 
skin, and bowel and contents (^/, E), deposited by 
the queen against the cell side, and find these to 
stand just clear of the main mass of the cocoon 
itself. 
As the inclosed princess approaches the com- 
pletion of her wondrous transformations, the bees 
nibble away the covering of wax and pollen by 
which they, about a week previously, shut her in ; 
so that a cell containing a nearly-matured queen 
may be generally recognised by its having the rough, 
felt-like, brown cocoon exposed. The fully-deve- 
loped insect next frees herself of her almost im- 
palpable exuvium (the last moult), and begins to 
bite through her cocoon, by means of her powerful, 
notched jaws. Turning within her cell, her bites are 
continued in a circle, until the end of the cell (or 
cocoon, rather) is all but separated as a lid (/, C), 
when the least effort from within — should the workers 
not resist — will enable her to make her escape. Often 
the lid is detached, but generally it continues hinged ; 
and, should an inquiring worker pass in after the 
exit of the rightful owner, she may suffer as did the 
heroine of ‘‘ The Mistletoe Bough, for, the lid closing 
upon her, the workers may add wax fixings, which 
accidentally compass her death. Many queen-cells, 
from this cause containing dead workers, have been 
sent to me by correspondents who have thought them 
extraordinary and unique. When so closed again, 
they may also be mistaken by the bee-keeper for 
those still containing queens to hatch, an error which 
may have disagreeable consequences. 
