a great friend to bees; this sounds strangely paradoxical, but it is so. Not only has he invented this smoking apparatus for marrying the stocks of bees, but for preserving them from what used to be their annual danger of death by the old system of destroying the bees with sulphur in order to take their honey. This friendly bee-preserver has written an eloquent address to bee-keepers, urgently beseeching them 'never to kill a bee;' and shows them how they may easily and profitably contrive to save their bees while they take the honey, by means of the smoke of that fungus called by children 'frog's cheese' and 'puff-balls,' and which grows in damp meadows. In this way he fumigates and renders temporarily senseless the bees, tenderly secures the queen, and afterwards restores them all to the hive, from which he has cut the principal portion of the comb, taking care to leave little bits of it sticking to the top of the hive, round which the bees will soon cluster, and restore to order, immediately on their return to their senses. This is a much simpler and more effectual method of taking the honey and preserving the bees than any before in use."

"A great deal of honey is likewise from time to time secured by means of a succession of hives being placed one above another, as each becomes filled by these industrious little people," said Mr. Singleton, "is it not ?"

"Yes," said Mr. Warden, "where the hives used are straw ones; but in the case of wooden ones, by means of side boxes and movable compartments."

"We have our boxes made of red cedar wood, you see;" said William, "its fragrance being agreeable to the bees, and its being the warmest and driest of any wood."

"Yes, and the wooden hives have the advantage of being easily and thoroughly ventilated," said Mr. Warden; "which is a great point, for the bees like the relief of coolness in

summer as much as they require to be kept warm in the winter."

"Besides, I like the wooden hives," said little George, "because we can so often take a peep at the bees through those convenient little windows-much better than in the straw hives."

"But we make it a rule," said William," always to cover over the glass window after we have done looking at them, as they don't like the light."

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Talking of rules," said Mr. Warden, “I find it a very good one to examine the hive from time to time during the cold season, to see whether any bees fall to the bottom, that, if they do, I may remove the dead ones, which, if allowed to remain, would prove terribly offensive to the others. That is a curious account of a slug happening to get into a hive of bees, who, after stinging their enemy to death, and not being able to remove so large a carcase, set to, and covered him entirely with a complete mummy-case of wax. Another good rule," pursued he, "is, in purchasing bees, to get if possible those that swarm early, as they will continue forward. Hives should be purchased at the latter end of the year, when cheapest; they should be full of combs, and well stored with bees, and the combs should be examined to ascertain the age of the hive. Combs of the same season are white; those of a former year, darkish yellow; and, where the combs are black, the hives should be rejected, as old hives are liable to vermin and other accidents. We judge of their strength by the loudness of their humming."

"That is a curious account given in Wildman's interesting book of his personal command over the bees," said Mr. Singleton, "and there is something very tender and gentle in his reluctance to reveal the secret of his influence, lest it should tempt inexperienced persons to try

F

experiments leading to the destruction of the bees; but I believe this secret lay in his perfect knowledge of the queen, and his fearlessness in handling her, thus swaying the movements of all her subjects by the direction of hers."

"Yes," said Mr. Warden; "and, besides this fearlessness of handling, I believe there are many people who escape stings by being personally more acceptable to bees than others. A handful of sweet herbs fanned to and fro before the face, or a silk net with small meshes over the head, and woollen gloves on the hands, are good preservatives; and if a bee is very pertinacious, and will buzz about you, a good way is to thrust your head into a parcel of boughs or herbs, which will almost invariably be a means of ridding you of him. I see our little Mary has made her escape," added her father, looking round; "I know she is rather afraid of the bees, though she does her best, like a sensible girl, to hide this feeling, and to conquer her dread by degrees."

“When we are stung," said William, we find the best remedy is to pluck out the sting as soon as possible, for the longer it remains the deeper it pierces."

"Of course," said his father; "owing to the peculiar make and barbed form of the sting itself. Various remedies have, from time to time, been in use; sal volatile, carbonate of soda, olive oil, or any mild oil, vinegar, bruised parsley, burnel leaves rubbed hard, honey (which may be taken from the body of the bee that inflicted the wound, for the poor insect never stings without purchasing its revenge with its life), and hot iron or live coal held as near and as long to the wound as you can endure; but I believe Dr. William's is the best cure, taking care to squeeze the poison out of the wound with the pipe of a small key after

BESSIE MOUNTAIN'S ARRIVAL.

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you have extracted the sting, and putting a little honey on the place just to keep the air away. Of all things, if you don't want to be stung, never breathe upon the bees; it is a mortal offence to them, which they resent to the death."

"They are altogether most wonderful little beings;" said Mr. Singleton, "and their almost human intelligence and faculty doubtless suggested that curious play by an old English dramatist, in which the characters are all bees. Do you remember what Charles Lamb (revered and beloved by you and me as one who honoured us with his friendship, and the treasured of all classical English readers as an author) says of this singular production? 'Whether it was ever acted I have no information to determine. It is at least as capable of representation as we can conceive the 'Birds' of Aristophanes to have been. The wooings of these pretty little winged creatures are, with continued liveliness, pourtrayed throughout the whole of this curious old drama, in words which bees would talk with, could they talk. The very air seems replete with humming and buzzing melodies while we read them.'"

As Mr. Singleton finished speaking, little Mary came running towards them out of breath, crying, "Oh, William! who do you think is come? Dear, darling Bessie Mountain! She has brought you such an immense huge cheesecake of her own making as a birth-day present, and I couldn't help running on to tell you of it; but here she comes ! said she, skipping back to lead forward this kind, gentle friend, whose winningly simple, affectionate manners, made her the beloved of all the children.

By the time she was fondly welcomed, and had exchanged greetings with all the party, they had quitted the bees, and had approached a sort of pavilion or large summer-house; it was a plain, unornamented building, but its dark red

brick walls contrasted richly with the profusion of creeping plants which were trained over them, and which hung in luxuriant green clusters round the open windows. It consisted of two spacious rooms, leading from one to the other, and, as they entered the porch, William said, "Mamma has been good enough to give up this large summer-house to us, contenting herself with the small one in the flower-garden, in order that we may have a nice large space under cover for our silkworms and birds."

"I am glad to perceive, my dear William," said Lucy England, "that you all invariably use those pretty words, 'us,' 'we,' and 'our,' instead of those selfish ones, 'I,' 'me,' and 'my;' it is certainly adding a relish to enjoy. ment when we share it with those we love."

In the centre of the first room stood a large table, on which were ranged a number of flat, open cages, about half an inch deep, and raised from the table by sticks of the same height, placed here and there to support them.

"I perceive the floors of your silk-worm cages are of fine wire gauze,” said Mr. Singleton.

"Yes," said William; "that is very requisite; for the worm exudes so vast a proportion of perspiration, that in a close cage it is apt to catch the rot and die. Some people have wicker cages covered with paper, but I think ours are the best."

"This room has a south aspect, which is good for them,” said Mr. Warden, "and the eggs are hatched by laying them in the sun. When I was a schoolboy, I remember I used to hatch them by wrapping them in a bit of flannel and carrying them about my person for five or six days, and I recollect the time I used to lose at my lessons, by peeping at them three or four times a day to see how they were getting on."