he sun set, the rooks in the squire’s park had gone to roost, the bats flew round the ivy-covered tower of the village church. the hive was becoming quiet and still, the bees hanging in clusters prepared to go to sleep; but stickasting had never returned. silverwing listened in vain for the well-known sound of her angry hum, and wondered what could have delayed her companion. but never again was the poor bee to fly back to the hive, never again to labour at the waxen cells; and, alas! how little was her presence missed—still less was it regretted.
[81]the next morning was warm, bright, and sunny, the bees were early on the wing. the larv? were beginning to spin their webs, and therefore no longer required food; so silverwing was free to range over the fields, and gather honey for the hive. so tempting was the day, that even honeyball shook her lazy wings and crept to the door; there stood for a few moments, jostled by her more active fellow-servants, and finally flew off in quest of food.
how delightful was the air!—how fragrant the breeze! the buttercups spread their carpet of gold, and the daisies their mantle of silver over the meadows, all glittering with the drops of bright dew. honeyball soon found a flower to her taste, and never thought of quitting it till she had exhausted all its honied store. she had a dim idea that it was her duty to help to fill the cells, but poor honeyball was too apt to prefer pleasure to duty.
“i should like to have nothing to do,”[82] she murmured, little thinking that a listener was near.
“like to have nothing to do! is it from a hive-bee that i hear such words?—from one whose labour is itself all play?”
honeyball turned to view the speaker, and beheld on a sign-post near her the most beautiful bee that she had ever seen. her body was larger than that of a hive-bee, and her wings were of a lovely violet colour, like the softest tint of the rainbow.[a]
honeyball felt a little confused by the address, and a little ashamed of her own speech; but as all bees consider each other as cousins, felt it best to put on a frank, easy air.
“why, certainly, flying about upon a morning like this, and making elegant extracts from flowers, is pleasant enough for a time. but may i ask, lady-bee,” continued[83] honeyball, “if you think as lightly of working in wax?”
“working in wax!” half contemptuously replied violetta; “a soft thing which you can bend and twist any way, and knead into any shape that you choose. come and look at my home here, and then ask yourself if you have any reason to complain of your work.”
honeyball looked forward with her two honey-combed eyes, and upwards and backwards with her three others, but not the shadow of a hive could she perceive anywhere. “may i venture to ask where you live?” said she at last.
“this way,” cried violetta, waving her feeler, and pointing to a little round hole in the post, which honeyball had not noticed before. it looked gloomy, and dark, and strange to the bee; but violetta, who took some pride in her mansion, requested honeyball to step in.
“you cannot doubt my honour,” said she,[84] observing that the hive-worker hesitated, “or be suspicious of a cousin?”
honeyball assured her that she had never dreamed of such a thing, and entered the hole in the post.
for about an inch the way sloped gently downwards, then suddenly became straight as a well, so dark and so deep, that honeyball would have never attempted to reach the bottom, had she not feared to offend her new acquaintance. she had some hopes that this perpendicular passage might only be a long entrance leading to some cheerful hive; but after having explored to the very end, and having found nothing but wood to reward her search, she crept again up the steep narrow way, and with joy found herself once more in the sunshine.
“what do you think of it?” said violetta, rather proudly.
“i—i do not think that your hive would hold many bees. is it perfectly finished, may i inquire?”
[85]“no; i have yet to divide it into chambers for my children, each chamber filled with a mixture of pollen and honey, and divided from the next by a ceiling of sawdust. but the boring was finished to-day.”
“you do not mean to say,” exclaimed honeyball in surprise, “that that long gallery was ever bored by bees!”
“not by bees,” replied violetta, with a dignified bow, “but by one bee. i bored it all myself.”
the indolent honeyball could not conceal her amazement. “is it possible that you sawed it all out with your teeth?”
“every inch of the depth,” violetta replied.
“and that you can gather honey and pollen enough to fill it?”
“i must provide for my children, or they would starve.”
“and you can make ceilings of such a thing as sawdust to divide your home into cells?”
[86]“this is perhaps the hardest part of my task, but nevertheless this must be done.”
“where will you find sawdust for this carpenter’s work?”
“see yonder little heap; i have gathered it together. those are my cuttings from my tunnel in the wood.”
“you are without doubt a most wonderful bee. and you really labour all alone?”
“all alone,” replied violetta.
honeyball thought of her own cheerful hive, with its thousands of workers and divisions of labour, and waxen cells dropping with golden honey. she scarcely could believe her own five eyes when she saw what one persevering insect could do. her surprise and her praise pleased the violet-bee, who took pride in showing every part of her work, describing her difficulties, and explaining her manner of working.
“one thing strikes me,” said honeyball, glancing down the tunnel; “i should not much like to have the place of your eldest[87] larva, imprisoned down there in the lowest cell, unable to stir till all her sisters have eaten their way into daylight.”
violetta gave what in bee-land is considered a smile. “i have thought of that difficulty, and of a remedy too. i am about to bore a little hole at the end of my tunnel, to give the young bee a way of escape from its prison. and now,” added violetta, “i will detain you no longer, so much remains to be done, and time is so precious. you probably have something to collect for your hive. i am too much your friend to wish you to be idle.”
honeyball thanked her new acquaintance and flew away, somewhat the wiser for her visit, but feeling that not for ten pairs of purple wings would she change places with the carpenter-bee.
