It is rarely that a swarm will come forth in bad weather ; fine still days are generally selected, seldom earlier than nine or later than three 'o'clock, and most frequently between twelve and two. As soon as the hive becomes inconveniently crowded, and Drones make their appearance, the Bees prepare for swarming by building a number of royal cells, and this having been done, the old Queen's instinet soon teaches her it is time to abdicate. The first swarm is invariably accompanied by the old Queen, and she usually goes off as soon as one or more of the royal cells be sealed over; but even although the royal cells have arrived so far towards maturity, swarming may yet be stopped by unfavourable weather or other causes, in which case the embryo Queens will be destroyed. Previous to swarming, her majesty becomes very restless, and instead of proceeding with her usual important business of egg laying, roams restlessly over the combs. Her agitation infects the whole colony; they rush to the honey cells, fill their honey bags, and fly in and out the hive as though impatient for the important event. At length a violent common ensues ; the Bees become almost frantic, whirling round in circles, continually enlarging, until at last the whole hive is in a state of the greatest ferment, and the Bees, rushing impetuously to the entrance, pour forth in one steady stream. "Upward they rise a dark continuous cloud, Of congregated myriads numberless, The rushing of whose wings is as the sound Of a broad river headlong in its course. Plunged from a mountain summit, or the roar Of a wild ocean in the autumn storm, Shattering its billows on a shore of rocks."--Socther. It is generally supposed that the Queen leads the swarm, but this is not the case; she may come out with the first rush, or at any other time; as also on alighting she may be the first, or the cluster may form without her being there. If, however, she does not join soon, the Bees will scatter again and seek her. Often, when full of eggs, she is so heavy that a long flight is impossible to her, and she falls to the ground where the Bees will be sure to find her. Should the Queen be lost, the bereaved colony will exhibit the greatest agitation. Bees will be running about the entrance and up the sides of the hive searching everywhere for their beloved sovereign. This common is very noticeable the morning following the loss, while other colonies are quiet; after a day or two they become resigned. Once out, the Bees scatter themselves in the air like countless stars in the firmament; they dash hither and thither, whirling about with a pleasant noisy roar that may be heard at some distance; the whole atmosphere seems alive with Bees passing and repassing. They must now be attentively watched, when they will probably be found gradually converging together and settling down in one mass on some neighbouring bush or tree; although they will often, apparently not feeling satisfied with the home neighbourhood, fly far away, when the owner stands a good chance of losing them altogether. It is said that throwing up sand or dirt, flashing a mirror, or firing a gun amongst them, will often cause them to come down, but if these means fail, the owner has no resource but to keep his eyes and legs in the greatest activity, and follow the swarm until it settles. Seldom a neighbour will refuse a civil request to be allowed to enter his premises to reclaim an errant swarm, and the law of England is, that a right of property in Bees can be claimed so long as the swarm has been kept in sight, and the owner has the power to follow them on any man's land, with the proviso that compensation shall be made for any damage that he or his Bees occasion. Should the swarm be lost and no stranger live them, they will often, after a few hours, return to their old hive, apparently disgusted at the neglect they have experienced. In this case they may be expected to emerge again on the first favourable opportunity.