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precious drops of nectar which lay hidden there. 
Mary was afraid he would break the Iris, but One 
wiser than Mary had taught him how to do it; and 
as he cunningly visited each sweet spot, she ob¬ 
served that his wings were covered with yellow 
dust. She watched him with great anxiety, and in 
a few moments he flew away to other flowers, to cull 
sweets for his hive. 
“ That little bee,” said the Iris, “ is a welcome 
visiter. If it were not for him I should have no 
seeds. He little knows the service he does me ; 
but when he comes for the drop of nectar that is in 
store for him, the touch of his wings bursts my an¬ 
thers, and the pollen which adheres to him falls 
upon the stigma as he passes from one side to the 
other. I did not expect that he would notice the 
stranger, but I see that he is as loving as my own 
Austrian bee, and I shall now have no fears for the 
