CONCERNING BEES. A RECENT writer gives us these curious facts about that very common little insect, the "busy bee." It will be more interest ing to watch these little honey-makers, after reading this: Look at his eye. Did you ever examine an insect's eye? Many of them are many-sided, and so it is with these of our little friend, and they enable him to see objects at a very great distance. Take him three miles from his sweet home and watch him. He flies round and round in spiral and increasing scope of flight, upward, upward, as if "Excelsior" were his motto. But see, his movements change. He has reached a sufficient height, and now, with a bee-line, he strikes directly for the hive. I think he must have seen it. What is the matter now? He has arrived at home, but he appears not to see the door. It is small to be sure, but he has been there often before, and ought not to go bobbing and buzzing about the side of the hive, like a man who has been too long at the club, and who can't make the latch-key fit. Look again. Notice those long feelers before his nose. There are twelve joints in them if he is a worker, or thirteen if he is a drone. By these he gains his knowledge of objects near at hand. See, he is now feeling all along the face of the hive, and now he' is out of sight to us in the darkness within, for he has stumbled upon the door. Once inside, he uses his wonderfully jointed feelers to great advantage, for, working in the dark, he has to feel things all over to know what they are; he has to feel his neighbours, too, to know who they are. You But we ought to have examined our wandering friend a little more closely before he went into darkness. Ah! here he comes again! Quick! let us look at his feet. There are six of them, and they each end in a curious hook. Mr. Bradley says they use these to hold on to the hive and to each other with. have seen a bunch of bees hanging on a branch, and though but a few were able to cling to it, all the thousands below appeared to be easily sustained. One would think their tiny legs would be pulled out of joint. The two hind legs of our little worker-bee differ from the others. There are very curious cavities hollowed in them which are guarded by thickly set hairs. In these the pollen is carried, and the red bee glue, or propolis, with which the bottom of the CONCERNING BEES. hive is covered, and the crevices that would admit the air stopped. The other legs are furnished with hairs by means of which the pollen is brushed off from the bee's body. Sometimes, in the spring, the little fellows must have more food than the hive affords, and then, if they are given rye flour, they will roll themselves in it, and when well covered, fly away. Then, poising in the air, or carefully alighting in a convenient place, they will dust all the flour into the cavities of their hind legs, with the brushes on their other four legs. Now let us look down this fellow's throat. Bees do not make honey, they only gather it. They suck it up with their proboscis, and then deposit it in their stomach. There are two of these, of which the first is only a big bag,— big for a bee, I mean,-and just holds a large drop of honey. The second stomach is used for digestion, and is connected with the first by an intestine so guarded by a valve, that food, though it can go readily from the first into the second, cannot by any means get back again. Thus the honey cannot be mixed with the food. When the first stomach is filled with honey, the bee hurries home and deposits it in the cells prepared for it. It is time for us to look into the hive now. It is as dark as a pocket, and as tight as a drum. Why, do you ask? It was a long time before any one could guess, but if you expose a little honey to the sun's rays, you will see for yourself. A change comes over it which makes it unfit for use by the bees. The bees make the hive tight to keep out dampness, but they take special pains to have it well ventilated in all its parts. They need pure air, and a number of workers are delegated to furnish it. Some are stationed at the entrance, who make currents with their wings, and others continue the drafts in different parts of the hive, until a complete circulation has been effected. This causes the humming noise heard in the hive. The colony in a hive consists of a queen, who is the mother of all; of drones or males; and of workers. The queen is larger than the others. Her size varies, but in the laying season, at the time of her greatest development, she is about an inch in length.. The drone, who is the father of the brood, is a trifle smaller, and the worker is still less in size. If we had a natural hive of 20,000 bees all told, we should expect to find in it one queen, 500 drones, and 19,499 workers. Now 500 is too large a number of lazy drones to support, as they are good for nothing after the CONCERNING BEES. eggs are laid by the queen. Therefore careful bee keepers have discovered an ingenious method of decreasing the population by several hundred of them, and they are able to avoid raising a single drone if they choose to do so. We cannot now explain the process, for we must examine our queen more closely. She has a larger body than her subjects, her colours are brighter and purer, her abdomen is long, conical, and tapering, and is crossed with bright yellow bands. Her head is smaller, her tongue shorter and more slender, and her jaws are notched. The drone is a lazy fellow, a great eater, with a short thick body, blunt at each end, and no sting. He is only tolerated because the queen must be married, and there must be a father as well as a mother for the brood. The workers are essentially female in their organization, but their growth is arrested before they are developed. For this reason they are smaller than the queen or drones, and their colours are not so bright. Any of the larvae of the working bees may be developed into a queen, by being fed with a stimulating food, and thus the loss of a queen may be repaired. We have now reached a very interesting point in studying the body of our little socialist. It is no less than his sting. This is composed of two needle-shaped darts in a sheath. Near their extremities these are armed with saw-like teeth, which make it impossible for the bee to withdraw it from an object which it has pierced, in which case the bee dies. There is a bag of transparent acrid poison near the base of the sting, which is squeezed into the wound by a violent contraction of the surrounding muscles. When one is stung by a bee, it is very natural to attempt to withdraw the sting with the fingers. This forces the poison into the flesh, whereas, if the spot were gently scraped with a knife-blade, the sting and poison would be taken out together. It is curious that while the queens and workers have stings, the drones have none. The queen's sting is only used to defend herself from another queen, and is turned inward at its end. There is only one queen in a hive, but two hives may get united, and sometimes, on the loss or death of a queen, more than one larva is highly fed, and by these means two queens may be in the hive together. If such a thing should occur, there would be an irrepressible conflict. The two queens would prepare for battle. The other bees would form a ring around them, and a true prize fight would begin. When bees fight they rear up on REJOICE IN THE LORD. their hind legs like dogs, and exert every nerve, and in such a position the curved stings of the queens are, of course, just the thing for effective use. The combat is not given over until one is dead, and the survivor ascends the legal waxwork throne in triumph. The sting of the worker bees is curved outward, for in their case it is a weapon of defence against outsiders, and they have no business to quarrel with one another. But they do fight, nevertheless, for there is a good deal of human nature in a bee. The brilliant, thoroughbred Italians have much of the old Roman spirit, and a great amount of pluck and muscle. In these respects they excel the humbler black bees, with which our hives were formerly stocked. The queens live about four years, the drones three or four months, and during the winter the workers live five or six months. During the summer, however, the little busy workers labour so hard to heap up something for posterity that they use themselves up in six or seven weeks. What a sad warning to those who labour too hard! REJOICE IN THE LORD. Sadness and Joy is the ring of health in any man or woman. melancholy come to us all in a personal way, and we must yield as the tree bows to a tempest. But it is not a normal condition. When the storm is past, the tree rights itself, and stands straight and handsome. So ought a soul to rebound from sorrow, and not cherish it as a thing to be loved. It will not please the dead we grieve for, to see us sad. Paul enjoined the Corinthians expressly upon this matter, that they must not sorrow as others who have no hope, lest the heathen should think that the Christian religion was not so cheerful and hopeful as their own. And that is the right frame of mind to cherish; the habit of looking at the bright side, and hoping for the best. It is best for ourselves; it is most hopeful to others, and it shows a more perfect trust in God. It is best for ourselves, because it is the condition of all kinds of growth. Every thing that grows is cheerful in its growth. The mind grows best when the heart is hopeful. It is then in the same mood in which the creation was made. God made the universe in a loving mood, and hence, as we put ourselves into the same frame of mind, we get hold of its secrets and compre REJOICE IN THE LORD. hend its truths. If you want to enjoy a piece of music fully, you need an argument or libretto which puts you into the author's mood; then the spirit and life of the music runs from his soul into yours, and you sigh and smile, and love and hate with him. So it is in our relation to this life. God ordained it in a mood of love; a love, indeed, which often rises into the higher and grander offices of discipline, under which generations sometimes bend or break; but still, as each long-hidden purpose comes to light, it is hailed as a token of love grander than we had dreamed, more beautiful than we had hoped. I will listen to a cheerful teacher, for he is in the way of truth; but away with whine and snivel in theology as in science. Why, out of all the moods which human beings are capable of, they should have chosen the grave and mournful alone for worship, I know not. You may talk with a man upon all other subjects in a bright, cheerful way and natural tone, as if there were grand things to live and hope for; but the moment you touch upon religion and the good God who gave all, and the good soul that may inherit all, you are amazed at the change which comes over him. His chin drops, his words are drawled, his tone changed; he stops laughing and wants to cry, as if you had referred to some delicate family matter which had broken his heart. The old Jew would have been disgusted with such performances before the Lord, and washed his hands in token of purification. If there is any one thing for which I respect Beecher more than another, it is for the merciless war which he has waged upon the whole tribe of pious croakers and snivelers, and the way in which he has insisted upon manly and womanly speech upon this as all other matters. There is a sublime trust implied in calm and conquering cheerfulness. The soul seems to have such an understanding with the universe; such a childlike confidence that its Father will do all things well. That a being so frail as man, with such a destiny at stake, in a condition so grand, walking amid forces whose rage he is impotent to control-that such a one can be cheerful and happy, shows an inborn conviction that God holds them all in the hollow of His hand. How sublime is such a rust! How it contrasts with the fearful gloom of guilt! How thrillingly Robert Browning brings the two into contrast in Pippi Passes!" In the palace of murdered Cenci and Ottima and her paramour, hating the light and all living sounds, and mocking at all the wealth which crime has brought them. Under |