But the round of the yearly phenomena in the old live is not yet completed. We must see what passes in the hive after the departure of the first swarm or colony, which generally takes place in the morning, or middle of the day, when a great number of the bees are abroad, collecting honey. Stirring news for them to receive as they return to the live! However, there is no time for lamentation; no good in disorder. So, gradually, quiet is restored. And then we may see the nurse-bees once more at work, engaged not only in tending the ordinary young, but in what may be called the culminating point of their annual labours, the helping forth into the world the royal scions, and from which they will supply their own queenless realm. They accordingly scrape away from one of the royal cells the wax that has been so lavishly bestowed upon it. Doubt not but they know which is the right one, that is to say, where lies the oldest of the young unborn queens. And here is exhibited another remarkable example of the bee-provision. The eggs in the royal cells were all laid with an interval of at least a day between each. Now that they are coming to maturity accordingly, they come not altogether, but in due succession, by which means the bees, as we shall see, have time to know how many of them they shall want, and be able to provide accordingly. In due time the royal pupa within obeys the stirring influences that call upon her to burst her cerement, and she would at once emerge into perfect life, but that the nurse-bees, who keep watch and ward over her, knowing what is good for her better than she does herself as yet,unnmediately solder over the top of the cell with wax, and keep her prisoner for about two days. Why? In order, evidently, that she may not, like the young bees, be unable to fly when she emerges from the live. And this is not left to guess-work. The bees know accurately when she is prepared, and most likely, by means of the quality or nature of the sounds she emits, which to man's grosser ears come in the shape of a number of monotonous notes, so rapidly repeated as almost to combine into one continuous sound. At last she comes forth in her perfect beauty and power. What an hour is that for the bees; especially for those indefatigable, careful, admirable, model matrons and house-wives, the nurse-bees! We envy Mr. Grant the pleasure he once enjoyed of "having an excellent view of the young queen, about two inches above the entrance, enjoying and cleaning herself, and receiving great attentions from her subjects." But it is in every sense a spring season, with its changeable weathers and moods. The young queen learns --how, we wish some one would tell us--that there are other young queens, successors and possible rivals, in the live. She, too, grows excited, whilst, unlike the old queen, she knows not what to do between conflicting impulses. She rushes to the cells--she will tear them open--she will sting the tenants to death--she will--but no; the cells are powerfully guarded, it is for the community to determine in a legitimate mode how these vast questions are to be dealt with; they warn her away; they bite her if she resists. She would even be in danger, but that, in case of extremity, she is in possession of some magical words (we tell no fairy-tale) that in an instant render the sentinels motionless. But if, taking advantage of this calm, she again approaches the forbidden ground, they recover themselves, and, in military phrase, do their duty. Huber witnessed this most interesting scene more than once. He describes the young queen at such a time as standing with her thorax against a comb, and crossing her wings upon her back, keeping them in motion, but not unfolding them, whilst she emitted the dread mysterious sounds, which were responded to by the weaker and homser cries of the yet pent-up unborn queens that she seeks to destroy. And what is it the bees want her to do, but learn the lesson bequeathed to her by her predecessor--the other way, and the question is that she can be used to create a new, but not the way to do.