"Can you not make wax?"
"No. I have no wax pockets in my coat."
"Then you could be a soldier-bee, and help to guard the Queen and hive."
"I should be useless. I have no sting."
"Oh, well, at any rate you could be a nurse and give the babies their meals, like those nurses over there."
"Why should I? Why should I work at all when I am the King?"
The boy stared. "You a King!" he cried
"Yes. Did you not know that we have a King and Queen?" asked the Drone.
"I knew that you have a Queen; we often hear about her. But I didn't think about a King."
"Well, I am the King—at least, I intend to be soon. At present I am a Prince. When my Queen comes out we shall be married, and then I shall be King. There are other drones waiting, but they shall not have her. Listen—she is singing in her golden room now. That means that she is coming out soon. I must be ready for the beautiful Queen."