“Take care!” said the queen, one day. “Now they’re coming!”
And suddenly all the eggs burst and in each cell lay a nice little baby.
“What queer creatures!” said the young bees. “Why, they have no eyes; and where are their legs and wings?”
“Those are grubs,” said the queen, “and that’s what you young green-horns yourselves once looked like. You have to be a grub before you can become a proper bee. Hurry now and give them something to eat.”
The bees hastened to feed the little young ones; but they did not all fare equally well. The ten that lay in the large rooms got as much to eat as ever they wanted and a big helping of honey was carried in to them every day.
“Those are princesses,” said the queen. “Therefore, you must treat them well. The others you can stint in their food; they are only work-people and must accustom themselves to take things as they come.”
And the poor little creatures got a small piece of bee-bread every morning and nothing more; they had to be content with that, even though they were ever so hungry.
2
In one of the small hexagonal cells close to the princesses’ rooms lay a tiny little grub. She was the youngest of them all and had but quite lately come out of the egg. She could not see, but she could distinctly hear the grown-up bees talking outside; and meanwhile she lay quite still and just thought her own thoughts.
“I could do with a little more to eat,” she said and tapped at her door.