If the bees lose their queen, and there are no worms or young to supply her place, they leave off working, and die in a few days. But if in the midst of their agitation their lost queen should be restored, they are quiet immediately, for they instantly remember and distinguish her from all others. If a new queen were to be placed in the hive too soon after the loss of the other, no attention would be paid her, and she would be starved or smothered in the crowd. But when four and twenty hours have passed, and the first grief is over, a stranger queen is well received and reigns immediately. The bees crowd about her, touch her by turns with their antennæ, give her honey, range themselves round her in a circle, and follow her as a guard when she moves.
The offspring of one queen alone is too numerous for a hive to hold. She will sometimes lay in one season sixty or seventy thousand eggs; so it would never do to have more than one queen. Some of the eggs turn to queens, some to drones, and the largest portion to workers. The swarms that leave the hive are each led by a queen. The drones do not collect honey, or help to build the cells. People, who like them lead an idle life, are sometimes called drones. The drones are turned out of the hive before winter, that they may not eat the honey that the industrious workers have collected.
A swarm of bees, on entering a new hive, immediately want cells to store their honey in, and to bring up their young. These cells cannot be made without wax, which is obtained, not from flowers, as is supposed, but from the body of the bees. This forms best while they are quiet; and in order to obtain it, they hang themselves in clusters, clinging to each other’s legs. Having remained in this situation for twenty-four hours, they scrape it off, and form it into cells, the tongue being used as a sort of trowel. Their industry, skill and contrivance in doing this are admirable.
Bees have many enemies beside man, the honey guide and the honey ratel. Wasps and hornets attack them while in search of flowers, and moths steal into the hive, where they sometimes do great mischief. At night, sentinels are set to watch, and by moonlight you may see them pacing to and fro, turning in every direction. If an enemy approach, the sentinels utter a loud hum, and other bees rush to their aid. If the moth gets in, and escapes being stung to death, it lays its eggs, which produce grubs, that sometimes oblige the bees to quit the hive. The death’s-head moth, which is very large, sometimes gets in and produces a sound, which renders the bees motionless, and then it steals their honey.
The humble bee is a clumsy looking creature, with which most people are acquainted. It builds its nest in hayfields, of moss. The way in which the bees collect this material is curious. One bee settles on a tuft of moss, with its head turned from the place where the nest is to be. It then tears off little bits with its teeth and fore legs, and passes them to the middle pair, and then to its hind legs, when it holds out the bunch of moss as far as it can, to another bee who is placed behind. This bee receives it, and in the same way passes it to the next, and so on till it reaches the nest. This is lined with coarse wax, and contains a few combs, clumsily made.
The humble bee is tormented by a kind of mite, which sometimes is found upon them in great numbers. They have recourse to a most amusing contrivance to get rid of them. A humble bee thus tormented will go to an ant-hill, and then kick and scratch till the ants come out to see what is the matter. Before they drive their noisy visiter away, the ants seize upon these mites and carry them off as a prize, and the bee, as soon as it is set free from its enemies, flies away contented!
Henry IV., King of France.—This monarch always made his children call him papa and father, and not the usual ceremonious title of “sir,” or, “your majesty.” He used frequently to join in their amusements; and one day, as he was going on all-four’s, with the dauphin, his son, on his back, an ambassador entered his apartment suddenly, and surprised him in that attitude. The monarch, without moving from it, said to him, “Monsieur l’Ambassadeur, have you any children?” “Yes, sire,” replied he. “Very well then,” said the king, “I shall finish my race round my chamber.”
Women.—Fontenelle being asked by a lord in waiting, at Versailles, what difference there was between a clock and a woman, instantly replied, “A clock serves to point out the hours, and a woman to make us forget them.”