Part 3 (1/2)

”But I am such a homely fellow,” he said. ”I don't see how you can like me since I broke my wing.”

”Well, I do like you,” she said. ”Your wing isn't much broken after all, and I _like_ your crooked feeler. It is so different from anybody else's.” Miss Cecropia looked very happy as she spoke, and she quite forgot how she once decided to go away from him. There are some people, you know, who can change their minds in such a sweet and easy way that we almost love them the better for it. One certainly could love Miss Cecropia for this, because it showed that she had learned to care more for a warm heart and courage than for whole wings and straight feelers.

Mr. Cecropia did not live long after this, unfortunately, but they were very, very happy together, and she often said to her friends, as she laid her eggs in the best places, ”I only hope that when my Caterpillar babies are grown and have come out of their chrysalides, they may be as good and as brave as their father was.”

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE BEES AND THE KINGBIRD

There was in the forest a great hollow tree where for years a swarm of Bees had made their home. To look at it in winter, one would never guess what a store of honey was sealed up within, but in summer the Bees were always pa.s.sing in and out, and it was indeed a busy place. Then the Workers had to gather honey and build the cells and look out for the Queen-Mother's many babies. The Queen-Mother had so much care of her eggs that she could really do nothing but attend to them. After they were ready in their cells, the Workers took care of them, and tucked in a lot of bread for the babies to eat when they were hatched. Then there was the bread-making to be done also, and all the Workers helped bring the pollen, or flower-dust, out of which it was made.

The Drones didn't do anything, not a thing, not a single thing, unless it were taking care of the Queen when she flew away from the tree. They had done that once, but it was long ago, before she had laid an egg and while she was still quite young. They were handsome great fellows, all black and gold, and if you didn't know about them, you might have thought them the pleasantest Bees in the tree. Of course you would not care for them after finding how lazy they were, for people are never liked just because they are fine-looking.

The Drones always found some excuse for being idle, and like many other lazy people they wanted the busy ones to stop and visit with them. ”What is the hurry?” they would say. ”There will be more honey that you can get to-morrow. Stop a while now.”

But the Workers would shake their brown heads and buzz impatiently as they answered, ”We can get to-morrow's honey when to-morrow comes, but to-day's honey must be gathered to-day.”

Then the Drones would grumble and say that they didn't see the sense of storing up so much honey anyway. That also was like lazy people the world over, for however much they scold about getting the food, they are sure to eat just as much as anybody else. Sometimes lazy people eat even more than others, and pick for the best too.

On cloudy days, the Workers did stay at home in the tree, but not to play. They clung to the walls and to each other and made wax. It took much patience to make wax. When they were gathering honey there was so much that was interesting to be seen, and so many friends to meet, that it was really quite exciting; but when they made wax they had to hang for a long, long time, until the wax gathered in flakes over their bodies. Then it was ready to sc.r.a.pe off and shape into six-sided cells to hold honey or to be homes for the babies.

One suns.h.i.+ny morning the Queen-Mother stopped laying her eggs and cried: ”Listen! did you hear that?”

”What?” asked the Workers, crowding around her.

”Why, that noise,” she said. ”It sounded like a bird calling 'Kyrie!

K-y-rie!' and I thought I heard a Worker buzzing outside a minute ago, but no one has come in. I am afraid--” and here she stopped.

”Of what are you afraid!” asked the Drones, who, having nothing to do but eat and sleep, were always ready to talk about anything and everything. The great trouble with them was that if you once began to talk they did not like to have you leave and go to work.

”Why,” said the Queen-Mother, ”I don't want to alarm you, but I thought it was a Kingbird.”

”Well, what if it was?” said a big Drone. ”There is only one of him and there are a great many of us.”

”Yes,” said the Queen-Mother, ”but there may not be so many of us very long if he begins to watch the tree. I have lived much longer than you and I know how Kingbirds act.”

This was true, for Queens live to be very old, and Drones never live long because they are so lazy.

”Well,” said the big Drone, ”we must find out about this. Just fly around and see if it is a Kingbird,” he said to a Worker. ”We must know about things before we act.”

”Suppose you should go,” she replied. ”I have my leg-pockets full of pollen, and it ought to be made into bread at once. I never saw Larvae so hungry as these last ones are.”

”I only wish that I could go,” said the big Drone, limping as he got out of her way; ”but my fifth foot just stepped on my third foot, and I can hardly move.”

When he said this, all the Workers smiled, and even the Queen-Mother had to turn away her head. The Drones looked as solemn as possible. It would not do for them to laugh at their brother. They did not want him to laugh at them when they made excuses for staying at home. They even pretended not to hear one of the Workers when she said that it was funny how some people couldn't use their wings if one of their feet hurt them.

”Yes,” said another Worker, ”and it is funny, too, how some people can get along very well on three legs when they have to, while others are too helpless to do anything unless they can use the whole six.”