GRAY.
In the course of the next day the two friends met again, and while the Bee did not forget the more important work of gathering food for the approaching winter, he did not so earnestly pursue it as to make him unmindful of other things.
"See here," said he to the Butterfly, as they flew towards a house whose open windows seemed to invite their entrance; "let us go in, I think we shall meet with something worth our notice?" The Butterfly hastened on, but no sooner had he reached the window than turning back, he winged his flight another way, with much greater speed, calling to his friend to follow him.
"What have you seen that has so alarmed you?" enquired the Bee, as he hurried after him, "what is in that house so very frightful?"
"It belongs to a naturalist," replied the Butterfly, "and don't you know what detestable creatures these are? had he seen me I should have lost my life in the cruelest manner."
"A naturalist!" returned the Bee, "I never heard of one, what does he do?"
"Do?" replied the trembling Butterfly, "why, he would tear me limb from joint if I was in his power, and yet endeavour to preserve my life only to try how much he could make me suffer; did you not see how many of my species were pinned up against the walls of his room, whose peculiar form or colour had attracted his attention? he thinks nothing of taking the life of any thing he admires. Oh! it turns me sick to think of it; had I flown one inch farther I might have been thus impaled, and you also; no doubt you would not have escaped his observation, and for the sake of your sting, or examining what you carry your honey in, you would have been quickly dispatched; various are the instruments he has got about him, and numberless insects does he daily destroy."
"These are detestable creatures indeed," answered the Bee; "what can't they be satisfied with viewing our forms as we pass along, but must they pull us to pieces, by way of admiration? I fancy when they have taken the most accurate survey, they could not make either a Bee, or a Butterfly; it is a pity therefore that they should destroy that life which they can never give. I declare the more I see of these human beings, and think of their cruelty, as well as absurdities, it makes me almost determine to quit the haunts of men, and if it ever should be my lot again to seek another habitation, I would use all my influence with my fellow Bees in order to remove to some wild wood where they might never find us."
"You would be perfectly right," returned the Butterfly; "as for us, if we escape them one summer, we willingly resign our lives at the end of it, and led by instinct seek a place in which we die unlamented, and soon forgotten; but this is not the case with you; while you live you are useful, and at your death a whole society feels your loss; but look," continued he, pointing towards a bottle that hung tied to the branch of a fruit-tree, in which were several wasps decoyed thither by the liquid it contained, and dying in the sweets they sought, "there is another instance of their malice, don't you see those poor creatures?"
"Oh! yes," returned the Bee, "and though I am no friend to wasps, who are often wishing to share the fruits of our labour, without having any right to them; and in many things are striving to imitate us, though I believe their chief aim is to do mischief, yet I cannot justify men who use such mean arts to entrap them to their destruction; but what is that I see in yonder window?" continued he with a hurried air, "something that more particularly demands my attention, a Bee in distress; and hark, he calls to me for assistance;" so saying, without waiting for the Butterfly to accompany him, he flew towards the place, where was a Bee nearly drowning in a pot of honey. "And one of my own hive too!" exclaimed he, as he drew nearer; "my dear brother, how came you in such a situation?"