Library Collections: Document: Full Text

When the workers have secreted a sufficient amount of wax, they begin to build the combs. The cells are formed in parallel and vertical layers, and are separated from each other, so that the bees can pass in and out. The cells are six-sided, and the bottom of each cell is flattened. When the bees are making the cells, they stand as close together as possible, and deposit the wax side by side. All the drones are killed in July or August, and the workers begin to collect the honey for the winter store. They sleep during the cold winter days, and awaken when the warm spring comes. They are very busy little workers, and they put up honey enough for themselves, and share with us, too. The most delicious honey is made in France, Greece and Switzerland; and much very good honey is made in England and America.

Not satisfied with exercises alone, Helen also put her knowledge of bees into the form of a story.

THE STORY OF THE BEES.

ONE beautiful morning, last June, a sweet little girl thought she would go out in the garden and pick some flowers for one of her playmates, who was sick and obliged to stay shut up in the house this fragrant summer morning. "Tommy shall have the most beautiful flowers in the garden," thought Edith, as she took her little basket and pruning scissors, and ran out into the garden. She looked like a lovely fairy or a sunbeam, flitting about the rosebushes. I think she was the most exquisite rose in all the garden herself. Her heart was full of thoughts of Tommy, while she worked away busily. "I wish I knew something that would please Tommy more than anything else!" she said to herself. "I would love to make him happy!" and she sat down on the edge of a beautiful fountain to think.

While she sat there thinking two dear little birds began to take their bath in the lovely, sparkling water, that rippled and danced in the sunshine. They would plunge into the water and come out dripping, perch on the side of the fountain for a moment, and plunge in again. Then they would shake the bright drops from their feathers, and fly away singing sweeter than ever. Edith thought the little birds enjoyed their bath as much as her baby brother did his.

When they had flown away to a distant tree, Edith noticed a beautiful pink rosebud, more beautiful than any she had yet seen. "Oh, how lovely you are!" she cried; and, running to the bush where it was, she bent down the branch, that she might examine it more closely, when out of the heart of the rose came a small insect, and stung her pretty cheek. The little girl began to weep loudly, and ran to her father, who was working in another part of the yard. "Why, my little girl!" said he, "a bee has stung you." He drew out the sting, and bathed her swollen cheek in cool water, at the same time telling her many interesting things about the wonderful little bees.

"Do not cry any more, my child," said her father, "and I will take you to see a kind gentleman who keeps many hives of bees."

"Oh, thank you!" cried Edith, brushing away the tears. "I will run and get ready now."

The bee master, as every body called the old man who kept the bees, was very glad to show his little pets, and to tell Edith all he knew about them. He led her to a hive, made wholly of glass, so that she might watch the bees at their work.

"There are three kinds of bees in every hive," said the gentleman. "That large bee in the middle is the queen bee. She is the most important bee in the hive. She has a sting, but seldom makes use of it. Those busy little bees are the worker bees. It was probably a worker that stung you this morning, my little girl," said the bee master.

Edith thought she did not like the worker bees as well as the others; but when she heard what industrious little workers they are, and how they take all the care of the young bees, build the cells of wax, and bring in the honey, she felt much more affection for them.

"That large, lazy-looking bee is the drone, or the father bee. Drones have no sting; and, as they do not help gather the honey, they are all killed during the summer months by the workers."

"What has the queen to do?" asked Edith.

"Oh!" replied the gentleman, "she is the mother bee; and she is so very busy that often she lays a thousand eggs in a single day. She is very wise, too, about some things. She never lays an egg from which is to come a queen in any but a royal cell."

"What a busy queen she must be, with so many children to take care of!" exclaimed Edith.

"No," answered the bee master, "she leaves the whole care of her large family to some of the worker bees, called nurses. A few of the working bees act as body-guard to her majesty, and never did a queen have braver or more faithful protectors."

"What do the bees do in winter, when there are no flowers from which to gather honey?" inquired Edith.

"They sleep during the long, cold winter days, and awaken when the warm spring sun returns," replied her kind instructor.

"Now," said Edith's father, "we had better go, or you will not get to see Tommy to-day."