BEE-spoke-data/bees-v0 huggingface dataset:
Here are two curious instances, showing how cunningly and ingeniously they contrive to meet difficulties. A snail once crept into a hive. What could the bees do with it? They could not sting it through its shell. They could not drag or drive it out. What they did was to surround the edge of the shell with propolis, and so to fasten it down tight to the floor of the hive. A little was sufficient, and all air was excluded, and the snail was, as it were, buried in its own shell.
On another occasion a slug entered a hive. This the bees soon stung to death. But then, how were they to remove it? And, if left, the smell of its decay would be unbearable. This apparent puzzle the bees soon solved, for they at once covered the whole body with a coating of propolis, which made it quite as harmless as if it had been buried.
Lay the pierced monster breathless on the ground,
And clap in joy, their victor pinions round.
While all in vain concurrent numbers strive,
To heave the slime-girt giant from the hive,
Sure not alone by force instinctive sway'd,
But blest with reason's soul-directing aid,
Alike in man or bee, they haste to pour,
Thick-hardening as it falls, the flaky shower ;
Embalm'd in shroud of glue the mummy lies,
No worms invade, no foul miasmas rise.'
Who of us, indeed, with all our reasoning powers, could have thought of a better plan?
## Chapter XXV.
wax, and how the bees make it.
Our next chapter must be about another, and very important material of the hive, of which at present we have said but little. We have thought of the comb and its form, now we must consider the wax of which it is made. The questions which suggest themselves are these : What is wax? How is wax made? At one time it was commonly supposed that wax was made of the little pellets of pollen which the bees were seen to take into the hive. Now, however, we know better, and that, although pollen may have something to do with it indirectly, wax is really made of honey, and honey alone, by a most curious and elaborate process. I must not try to explain it all to you, but in order to understand a little of the process you must first look at the under side of the abdomen of a bee, and there, if the bee is occupied in comb-building, you will see some very small flakes or scales of wax sticking to it in several places, which places are often called'wax-pockets.' These little flakes of wax are produced from the honey in the honey - bag, which undergoes a certain course of preparation within the bee, and then is secreted, and appears, not as honey, but as wax. Generally speaking, these little bits of wax can only be produced when the bees are in a great heat; and thus, when they require to make wax, they first of all have their honey-bags full, and then have a way of hanging together in what looks like a solid cluster, but which really consists, so to speak, of a great many ropes of bees clinging to one another. In this curious position they remain perfectly quiet, and great heat is produced.
Then, after a time, the little wax - scales make their appearance, and these, when duly formed, the bee carries away to the place where it is wanted, and where other bees fashion it into the required shape. It is not, however, quite fit for use as it comes from the wax-pockets, and, before using it, the bees mix it with a kind of saliva, and knead it up with their jaws.
It thus takes a great deal of time and trouble, and a great many bees, to make a little wax ; so much so that it is a fact that the bees consume as much as twenty pounds of honey to make one pound of wax, so that it is in every way a very expensive material, and it is of great importance to the bees that they should make as little of it as possible.
It used to be thought that the wax-makers were a special set of bees by themselves, but this is not the case. All the workers, more or less, take their turn, except the very young bees.
And now of these young bees, these children of the hive, I must say something that you must try and remember. It is this--that these young ones do not leave the hive for two or three weeks after they are born, except at times for short flights to play and take exercise'like children. All this time they remain at home to get strength, and (shall we say?) be taught their duties. But, although they stay at home, they are by no means idle. Do not think this for a moment. Indeed, they have most important work to do, and they do it like useful children.
First of all, the task is given to them of looking after and nursing the young grubs in the brood nest. For these they prepare the food, and put it in the cells; and then when the proper time comes, seal the cells over, doing everything that is necessary. These young bees are often called the nurses, and very good nurses they are,
They are also in great measure, although not always, the comb-builders, taking the wax from the wax-makers, and fashioning it into the proper shape. They also do much other work, storing away into the cells the honey and pollen brought in by the other bees.
They are, indeed, very useful young bees, very helpful to the mother in the care of her little ones, and although not old enough to go out into the fields
--the wide world--yet quite ready to do anything at home which is within their power; and in this set an example to children who, even when quite young, should be cheerfully ready, as far as possible, to assist their mother, always seeking to be helpful children.
## Chapter Xxvi.
night-work and ventilation.
And now is it not wonderful to think that a great deal of all this work goes on at night,--more indeed at night, when all the bees are at home, than in the day, when many are absent? Except during winter the bees are always hard at work ; they improve not only the'shining hour,' but the darkest hour. They never leave for another day, or even hour, what can be done at once. If any repairs are needed they well know by their wonderful instinct how true it is that 'a stitch in time saves nine.'
Virgil makes the mistake of saying that they sleep at night :
When eve at length
Admonishes to quit the balmy field,
Home to refresh their weariness they come ;
Awhile about the doors and avenues
Thronging with drowsy hum, till in their beds
Couch'd for the night, a silence o'er them creeps,
And all their busy life is lull'd to rest.'
Very much more might be said on all this subject of the bees' work, what they do and what they make, but **I** will only mention one other thing. It is another kind of work, and very hard work, although it is all done while the bees stand still in one place!
Go to a hive in summer time, and you will see, at the entrance, several bees (and there are many more inside doing the same thing) standing with their heads toward the hive's entrance, and keeping up the most rapid movement with their wings ; and so intent are they on their work that they give no heed to anything else, although many bees, going into the hive, may knock against them, and almost go over them. On they go with their work until quite tired out, when others take their place. What is it all for?
Well, it is for what is called ventilation, in order to blow, as with a fan, a quantity of fresh pure air, from the outside, into the hive to take the place of that which has become bad and unwholesome, owing to the number of bees and the confined space. As the good air is forced in, the bad air is forced out. It is the same with the hive as with our own rooms. These, as you know,--or ought to know, --must have their windows regularly opened, or, at all events, fresh air let in by some' means, for, if not, they become most unwholesome, particularly if many people are in them. Nothing is of more importance. It is absolutely necessary to health, and you must always remember it. And so it is with the bees, and they know it ; and, as they cannot open windows, they adopt this ingenious plan of blowing in the fresh air by their wings; and so thoroughly well does it answer the purpose that, however hot the weather, they always manage, unless there is disease in the hive, to keep the air in a pure state.
Besides the bees who thus ventilate the hive you will see others also at the entrance, acting as guards, watching for any enemy or strange bee, but in a moment recognising their friends by a touch of their antennae, and letting them pass. See, however, a fly or a wasp come near, and out they rush at once, ready to fight- boldly, if necessary, even to the death.
Some are bid
To keep strict senry at the outer gate,
And take their turns of watching cloud and rain.'
## Chapter Xxvii.
the division of labour in the hive.
In the next place, we see in all this varied work a striking example of the importance and results of division of labour. You have all read stories about this, how not even a little pin is made without a great number of people--men, women, boys, and girls having had part in it. Or you have read how, when a house is built, although only a few hands are seen to work upon it, thousands have really done something towards-it, in preparation of materials, in bringing them by rail and ship to the spot, in making the tools, and so on.
As each day comes round each bee has its special work. Some gather honey, some pollen, some proplis, and, of those at home, some are ventilating, some guarding the entrance, and others are attending the queen, or are wax-making, or storing the honey and pollen, or nursing and feeding the young, and so on :
'Some o'er the public magazine preside,
And some are sent new forage to provide ;
These drudge the fields abroad, and those at home
Lay deep foundation for the labour'd comb,
With dew, Narcissus leaves, and clammy gum,
To pitch the waxen flooring some contrive,
Some nurse the future nation of the hive ;
Sweet honey some condense, some purge the grout,
The rest in cells apart the liquid nectar shut.'
VIRGIL (by Dryden).
Thus :
'Each morning sees some work begun,
Each evening sees its close.'
And by division of labour, as well as by hard work, they bring about their great results.
And then another thing in all this work of the bee, which we cannot fail to notice with admiration, is the great importance which they attach to little things, teaching us that it is by sticking to our work and attending to little things that we shall best succeed in anything that we have to do. Just look at the bee's care and attention to the smallest things --to do the smallest things in the best way. And observe again--as mentioned before--how they are never wasteful. It is indeed but very little that any one single bee can do. According to careful calculation, any one bee does not collect more than a teas-spoonful of honey in a season. And yet see what is brought about by all thus working together, and all doing their little, and putting their little stores together. See the full hive as the result. And even the full hive is not all, for they will sometimes make 100 lbs., or even more, of honey--over and above all they store in the body of the hive--which the bee-keeper may take as the reward of his care and trouble.
But after all, if we only take notice, all nature around us is full of the same great lesson--how much can be done by little workers and care of little things.
One of the most curious and wonderful examples has been pointed out and explained by Mr. Darwin,--the great naturalist, and perhaps the closest and most ingenious observer of nature who ever lived. We think the little worms the most insignificant of creatures ; but he has shown that what the little worms have done, and now are doing, is most astonishing. The worm throws up its tiny 'worm-cast,' and we think nothing of it. It is the most trifling thing possible ; but in the course of ages these little morsels heaped together have been the means of changing in appearance large tracts of land.
It is, perhaps, more wonderful still to look at the lofty chalk cliffs of our sea-shore, and to know that they were formed in the course of countless ages by the work of some of the smallest of insects--insects so minute as only to be seen by a microscope.
And, yet again, we see the same in the mighty work of the little coral insects, which, in countless numbers through countless ages, raise from the depths of the sea in tropical climates, islands and reefs of coral rock ; which in many places form harbours of shelter for great ships, and, in others, most dangerous hidden rocks, upon which many a good ship has been wrecked.
Well, with these examples before you--and especially that of our friends, the bees--learn the value, and learn to make the most of, little things. Let me remind you of some good old savings: 'Waste not, want not ;'A pin a-day is a groat a-year;'Take care of the pence, the pounds will take care of themselves.' Yes, 'take care of the pence.' Put your pence into a Savings' Bank. There is a Savings' Bank at nearly every post-office, where you may do this. Or perhaps you have a Penny Bank in your parish. I could tell you many stories of such a bank in a country village, where many a child by taking care of pence soon became possessed of pounds ; but now I can only say that you may look at the hive as a great savings' bank. The bees, with care and labour, put in their little gatherings ; and the result is plenty for themselves, and plenty for us as well.
## Chapter 23 More about the observation of bees.
In a former chapter I spoke of the importance of keeping our eyes open, and that, if we do so, we shall see wonders all around us ; and I spoke of Huber, the great observer of bees, and how he discovered many things although blind. But I suppose we should never have known many of the facts of which I have told you,without the help of what are called'Observatory Hives.' Such a hive is made, as you see in the illustration, with glass slides or large windows, and of such little depth between back and front that it will not hold two.combs side by side. There is, however, just room for one comb between the two glass sides or windows ; and the consequence is that every bee in the hive can be seen, either on one side or the other. The glass sides have wooden shutters ; but the bees soon get accustomed to having them open, and go on working away as usual while you are looking at them closely.
Thus through the glass you will easily and plainly see the queen, as she walks over the combs laying her eggs, and surrounded by her attendants ; and you will see all the care of the nurse-bees--how they feed the larvae, and how the comb is made, and the cells filled with honeyand pollen. And as these observatory hives are generally kept in a room, and have a way for the bees to go out and come in through a little hole in the wall, there is no difficulty about observing everything without danger of being stung.
How to manage one of these hives you will perhaps learn at a future day from other books. These hives are a comparatively modern invention, but even Huber had something of the kind, which he called a 'leaf-hive.' It was made like a book with three or four leaves, each so-called leaf containing one little comb, the bees getting into the leaves by a common entrance at, what we may call, the back of the book. Although far inferior to the modern observatory hives it was another proof of his great skill and ingenuity.
We will now conclude this part of our book with one more example of what can be done by observation.
Sir John Lubbock, who, as I described before, made such interesting experiments as to the daily work of bees, and who has made many others respecting their hearing, smelling, and affection for one another, was anxious to determine how far bees, as they fly from flower to flower, can distinguish one colour from another ; and he contrived to discover it in the following ingenious manner.
First of all, he got a bee from one of his hives to come to some honey, which he put upon a small piece of glass, placed upon some coloured paper. After the bee, which he marked with paint, had become well accustomed to go backwards and forwards, carrying some of the honey to its hive--and while it was away--he arranged near the glass first one and then several other pieces of glass, each with honey, but each with a different-coloured piece of paper underneath. Thus, when the bee came back from time to time, there were pieces of glass with honey looking different to its first original piece--perhaps blue, or red, or.yellow. But, although all might be tempting, the bee knew its own colour, and went to its old place.
But now further to test it,--while it was away--the paper under its own piece of glass was removed, and made to exchange place with another bit of paper; so that in the old place, although glass and honey were the same, they appeared of a different colour. And now what did the bee do? Soon it came back, and was going straight to its old place, but saw at once that things were altered; and so stopped and hovered for a moment, but soon caught sight of its own colour, and went straight to it. In other words, colour was, to a certain extent, its guide to the food. This experiment, after it had been tried again and again, and in various ways, was conclusive that bees do know something of colour; and therefore can distinguish one flower from another by colour.
By a series of further experiments he found out that if bees have any preference to one colour more than another, it is to blue.
## Chapter Xix. introduction to Bee-keeping.
If you have read the former part of this book with attention, you now feel, I hope, some interest in the subject of bees, and see that they are indeed marvellous little insects, deserving of all care and attention. As a consequence, I hope you feel that you would like to keep bees, and see for yourself some of the wonderful things of which I have been speaking. And I am quite sure that, if you only have a suitable place in which to keep them, and, chief of all, if you have got, as it is termed, 'a head on your shoulders,' and a kind heart to love all God's creatures--' all things both great and small '--and to treat them well, you may thus keep them, and find enjoyment in the pursuit, and also get some profit in the shape of money for the savings' bank. Boys and girls of thirteen or fourteen years old may very well keep and manage one or two hives.
But how can you make even such a start as this? Well, I will tell you. You must begin bee-keeping by keeping together your pence and sixspaces--by saving up with care--until you have got together perhaps ten shillings, or a little more, with which to buy a stock or swarm of bees in a straw hive. This will be a small beginning, but it is best to begin in a little way. There is a proverb which says, 'Who goes slowly goes long, and goes far.' And again ithas been wisely said, 'To know how to wait is the great secret of success.' A great many people fail in bee-keeping because they try to begin with everything at once ; and do things on a large scale with modern inventions, before they have had any experience of practical management, or have tried their hands at some of the very simplest things.
It is with bee-keeping as with every other pursuit, you cannot get up the ladder of success all at once. You must begin with the first round, and get higher step by step, using, first of all, simple means, with care and industry. 'Fortune favours industry.' Smiles, in _Self Help_, has well said, 'The greatest results in life are usually attained by simple means and the exercise of ordinary qualities. The great highroad of human welfare lies along the old highway of steadfast well-doing, and they who are the most persistent, and work in the truest spirit, will invariably be the most successful. Fortune has often been blamed for her blindness, but Fortune is not so blind as men are. Those who look into practical life will find that Fortune is usually on the side of the industrious. Success treads on the heels of every right effort. Nor are the qualities necessary to ensure success at all extraordinary. They may, for the most part, be summed up in these two--common sense and perseverance.'
Very thoroughly does this apply to bee-keeping. You will succeed if you exercise 'common sense'and 'perseverance.' First of all, then, make up your mind to take trouble in the matter. Remember, that if there is anything you can do fairly well without trouble or difficulty,you will generally be able to do it much better by giving it some thought. Determine then that you will succeed with bee-keeping, and that, at all events, you will not fail through negligence.
It is very sad to see the poor bees in some gardens, uncared for and neglected, put away in some damp, dismal corner. They are thus often left to themselves, to live or die ; and yet people wonder why others get honey and profit, and they get none. I remember once being asked by the lady of a large country-house to examine some hives in the garden. They were not successful. They made no honey. It must be a bad country, or a bad year. Such things were said. But what did I find? I remember well one miserable straw skep, rotten and broken down, with a large hole rotated through the top, through which one could see the combs and the poor bees at work--a hole letting out all heat, and letting in the rain. It was a melancholy sight! Think whether you could live in such a house, almost tumbling down, with the windows gone, and the roof partly off, and all damp and cold! Poor bees! What could they do in such circumstances? It was a satisfaction to be able to save their lives.
It is a good old saying that, 'if a thing is worth doing at all, it is worth doing well.' And I am sure it is so with bee-keeping; so that I hope, before you get even a single hive, you will resolve to manage your bees in the very best way you can. Try to excel in the management. It was said of the great Lord Brougham that'such was his love of excellence, that if his station in life had been only that of a shoe, then it is not a good thing to do so.' And I am sure it is so with bee-keeping; so that I hope, before you get even a single hive, you will resolve to manage your bees in the very best way you can.
black, he would never have rested satisfied until he had become the best shoeblack in, England.' And such efforts to excel will not only give the satisfaction of success, but, in the case of bee-keeping, will best bring actual profit.
Good management always pays. We see example of this every day in every condition of life. Some people, by management, seem to make a shilling go as far as two shillings in the hands of others. Some people, for want of management, are always behind-hand in everything, and always in trouble in consequence. For a garden, for instance, good management, as well as good labour, is necessary. A great deal of work may be done, but unless it is well-directed work, or, in other words, unless there is management, much of it will be thrown away. It is the same with a farm. If it is worth while to farm at all, it is worth while to farm well ; and the better the land is farmed, the better will it pay. In short, management and labour must go together in order to bring success.
Virgil gives us a good example of all this, describing his visit to an old gardener of his day, who, in all he did, fully carried out the great principle, and by labour and management took first place both with his garden and his bees :--
'For once do I remember to have seen
An old Coryican gardener, who possest
A few scant acres of forsaken ground,
For pasture or for ploughing all too poor,
Ungenial for the vine ; yet here he rais'd
His vegetable fare, verbenas, lilies,
**Exculent poppies in the brake he sowed, Rich as a king in happiness ; and home Returning late at eve, his frugal board With unbought dainties cover'd : first was he To cull the vernal rose, the autumn fruit ; And when a winter frost was even yet Splitting the rock and fettering the stream, That old man shore the soft acanthine leaf, Chiding the zephyr and the spring's delay. Therefore his hives the first with offspring teem'd And swarms abundant; soonest would the combs Their foaming juices to his pressure yield : The pine, the linden flourish'd best with him ; And every blossom that with beauty clothed His orchards to autumnal ripeness grew.'**
**Virgil (by Kennedy).**