[CHAP. II.]
"Excuse me then if pride, conceit,
"The manners of the fair, and great,
"I give to monkeys, asses, dogs,
"Fleas, owls, goats, butterflies, and hogs;
"I say that these are proud; what then?
"I never said they equal men."
GAY.
The Bee thus returned began to feel something like pleasure, and as the morning sun lighted the place in which he had been so long a prisoner, his hopes revived that he should yet feel a greater benefit from them.
He had not room to move his wings freely, yet he thought them rather more pliable, and creeping upon the branch of the tree which shaded the entrance of his habitation, he endeavoured to cleanse them from the dirt and stiffness which had incumbered them, and after repeatedly stroking his back with the little brushes with which Nature had supplied his feet, he succeeded, and was able to fly from his station to a neighbouring flower.
He had not forgotten the Butterfly, but he did not suppose that he would remember him or his engagement of the preceding evening, but again he had to acknowledge the mistake of prejudice, for he had not been long upon the flower, (made more sweet by his having found the use of his wings to obtain it,) before he saw his friend approaching, flying through the air, and never fixing till he had found the spot on which he had left him.
The loud humming of the Bee soon discovered that he was not far off, and the Butterfly hastening towards him, congratulated him on having found his liberty. "You are taking your breakfast," said he, "I give you joy of a fine morning," and after the kindest enquiries of how he now found himself, he expressed his hope that he would be able to accompany him to a field of cowslips which he had passed at a little distance; "they smell so sweet, and look so beautiful," continued he, "hanging down their yellow heads, that though I certainly admire a greater variety of colours, I could not but be pleased with these, and had I not wished for your company, could have flown from one to the other for some time; I am sure one day's feasting on their sweets will restore you to perfect health; come, shall I lead the way?"
"I cannot but be grateful for your solicitude," returned the Bee, "and that you should so far forget your nature as to be anxious for me who am of so different an one; I am able to fly but very slowly, if at all, and you will like to extend your rambles much farther than I can accompany you; do not, therefore, think of tying yourself to me." The Butterfly was evidently disappointed; "I know," said he, "that our natures are different; I am not held in such high estimation as yourself, nor am I half so useful, or my life so long as your's; 'the creatures but of a day,' is what we are generally called, yet that day it is my wish to spend well, and as far as is in my power to be of benefit to another; if it was to one meaner than myself it would be gratifying, but when I consider that it is to a Bee that my services are useful, it is doubly so; why then will you deny me this pleasure?"
The Bee could not but be struck with this singular proof of friendship in one from whom he had not deserved it, and though he might be unwilling that any of his old companions should see him associating with one whom they were mostly inclined to treat with contempt, he could no longer resist his importunity, and therefore promised to accompany him to the place he had mentioned, and where he was amply recompenced by the delicious food he found there, for the fatiguing though short flight he had taken to procure it, whilst the good-natured Butterfly was equally gratified by seeing his friend enjoy the fragrance he had introduced him to. "You will stay here all day," said he, "and by night I expect to see you strong and hearty; if you please, I will fly about a little, and perhaps shall be able to bring you intelligence of food for to-morrow, but promise me to remain here till my return."
"Undoubtedly," replied the Bee, half lost in one of the sweet recesses he was thus enjoying, "believe me I feel your kindness! If you had not visited me last night, and encouraged my feeble efforts to move, I should have laid still and died, and all these bounties of Nature would have been spread in vain for me; indeed, I am obliged to you, and feel that though you may never be of such service to me again, I should be sorry to lose your acquaintance."