CHAPTER II.

ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY.

In this chapter I shall give first the general anatomy of insects; then

the anatomy, and still more wonderful physiology of the honey-bee.

ANATOMY OF INSECTS.

In all insects the body is divided into three well-marked portions

(Fig. 2): the head (Figs. 4 and 5), which contains the mouth-organs,

the eyes, both the compound and when present the simple, and the

antennæ; the thorax, which is composed of three rings, and gives

support to the one or two pairs of wings, and to the three pairs of

legs; and the abdomen, which is composed of a variable number of rings,

and gives support to the external sex-organs, and when present to the

sting. Within the thorax there are little more than muscles, as the

concentrated strength of insects, which enables them to fly with such

rapidity, dwells in this confined space. Within the abdomen, on the

other hand, are the sex-organs, by far the greater and more important

portions of the alimentary canal, and other important organs.

ORGANS OF THE HEAD.

Of these the mouth organs (Fig. 6) are most prominent. These consist

of an upper lip--labrum--and under lip--labium--and two pairs of jaws

which move sidewise; the stronger, horny jaws, called mandibles, and

the more membranous, but usually longer, maxillæ. The labrum (Fig. 6,

_l_) is well described in the name upper lip. It is attached, usually,

by a movable joint to a similarly shaped piece above it, called clypeus

(Fig. 6, _c_), and this latter to the broad epicranium (Fig. 6, _o_),

which contains the antennæ, the compound, and, when present, the simple

eyes.

The labium (Fig. 15) is not described by the name under lip, as its

base forms the floor of the mouth, and its tip the tongue. The base

is usually broad, and is called the mentum, and from this extends the

tongue (Fig. 15, _a_) or ligula. On either side, near the junction of

the ligula and mentum, arises a jointed organ rarely absent, called

the labial palpus (Fig. 6, _k k_), or, together, the labial palpi.

Just within the angle formed by these latter and the ligula arise the

paraglossæ (Fig. 15, _d_), one on either side. These are often wanting.

[Illustration: Fig. 6.

Head of Bee much magnified.

_o_--Epicranium

_e e_--Compound eyes.

_a a_--Antennæ,

_c_--Clypeus.

_l_--Labrum.

_m_--Jaws.

_m x_--2d Jaws.

_k k_--Labial palpi,

_t_--Ligula.

]

The jaws or mandibles (Fig. 6, _m, m_) arise one on either side just

below and at the side of the labrum, or upper lip. These work sidewise

instead of up and down as in higher animals, are frequently very hard

and sharp, and sometimes armed with one or more teeth. A rudimentary

tooth (Fig. 21, _b_) is visible on the jaws of drone and queen bees.

Beneath the jaws or mandibles, and inserted a little farther back, are

the second jaws or maxillæ (Fig. 6, _m x_), less dense and firm than

the mandibles, but far more complex. They arise by a small joint, the

cardo, next this is a larger joint, the stipes, from this extends on

the inside the broad lacinia (Fig. 20, _c_) or blade, usually fringed

with hairs on its inner edge, towards the mouth; while on the outside

of the stipes are inserted the--from one to several jointed--maxillary

palpi. In bees these are very small, and consist of two joints, and in

some insects are wholly wanting. Sometimes, as in some of the beetles,

there is a third member running from the stipes between the palpus and

lacinia called the galea. The maxillæ also move sidewise, and probably

aid in holding and turning the food while it is crushed by the harder

jaws, though in some cases they, too, aid in triturating the food.

These mouth parts are very variable in form in different insects. In

butterflies and moths, two-wing flies and bugs, they are transformed

into a tube, which in the last two groups forms a hard, strong beak

or piercer, well exemplified in the mosquito and bed-bug. In all the

other insects we find them much as in the bees, with the separate

parts varying greatly in form, to agree with the habits and character

of their possessors. No wonder DeGeer and Fabricius detected these

varying forms as strongly indicative of the nature of the insect, and

no wonder, too, that in their use they were so successful in forming a

natural classification.

Every apiarist will receive great benefit by dissecting these parts and

studying their form and relations for himself. By getting his children

interested in the same, he will have conferred upon them one of the

rarest of blessings.

To dissect these parts, first remove the head and carefully pin it

to a cork, passing the pin through, well back between the eyes. Now

separate the parts by two needle points, made by inserting a needle

for half its length into a pine stick the shape of a pipe-stem, leaving

the point projecting for an inch or more. With one of these in each

hand commence operations. The head may be either side up. Much may be

learned in dissecting large insects, even with no glass; but in all

cases, and especially in small insects, a good lens will be of great

value. The best lens is one of Tolles', sold by Mr. Stoddard, of the

Boston optical works. These are very excellent and thus high priced,

costing $14.00. Gray's triplet hand-lenses are very good, are cheap,

and can be procured for about $2.00 of any optician. The handle should

have a hole through it to permit of mounting it above the object, so

that it will hold itself. Tolles' lenses are easily mounted, in a stand

which any one can contrive and make in twenty minutes. I value my

Tolles' lens even more highly than my large compound microscope, which

cost $150. Were I obliged to part with either, the latter would go.

I require my students to do a great deal of dissecting, which they

enjoy very much and find very valuable. I would much rather that my

boy would become interested in such study, than to have him possessor

of infinite gold rings, or even a huge gold watch, with a tremendous

charm. Let such pleasing recreation gain the attention of our boys,

and they will ever contribute to our delight, and not sadden us with

anxiety and fear.

The antennæ (Fig. 6, _a, a_) are the horn-like jointed organs situated

between or below and in front of the large compound eyes of all

insects. They are sometimes short, as in the house-fly, and sometimes

very long, as in the grasshoppers. They are either straight, curved or

elbowed (Fig. 6). In form, too, they are very various, as thread-like,

tapering, toothed, knobbed, fringed, feathered, etc. It is known

that a nerve passes into the antennæ, but their exact function is

little understood. That they serve as most delicate touch organs no

apiarist can doubt. That they serve as organs of smell or hearing is

not proved. That insects are conscious of sounds I think no observing

person can doubt. It is proved by the call of the katy-did, the cicada

and the cricket. What apiarist, too, has not noticed the effect of

various sounds made by the bees upon their comrades of the hive. How

contagious the sharp note of anger, the low hum of fear, and the

pleasant tone of a new swarm as they commence to enter their new home.

Now, whether insects take note of these vibrations, as we recognize

pitch, or whether they just distinguish the tremor, I think no one

knows. There is some reason to believe that their delicate touch-organs

may enable them to discriminate between vibrations, even more acutely,

than can we by use of our ears. A slight jar will quickly awaken a

colony of hybrids, while a loud noise will pass unnoticed. If insects

can appreciate with great delicacy the different vibratory conditions

of the air by an excessive development of the sense of touch, then

undoubtedly the antennæ may be great aids. Dr. Clemens thought that

insects could only detect atmospheric vibrations. So, too, thought

Linnæus and Bonnet. Siebold thinks, as the antennæ receive but one

nerve, and are plainly touch-organs, they cannot be organs of hearing.

Kirby has noticed that some moths turn their antennæ towards the

direction from which noise proceeds, and thus argues that antennæ are

organs of hearing. Grote, for a similar reason, thinks that the densely

feathered antennæ of the males of various night moths, serve both for

smell and hearing. Prof. A. M. Mayer and Mr. C. Johnson (see American

Naturalist, vol. 8, p. 574) have by various ingenious experiments,

proved conclusively, that the delicate, beautifully feathered antennæ

of the male mosquito are organs of hearing.

That insects have a very refined sense of smell is beyond question. How

quickly the carrion-fly finds the carcass, the scavenger the filth, and

the bee the precious nectar.

I have reared female moths in my study, and have been greatly

surprised on the day of their leaving their cocoons, to find my room

swarming with males. These bridegrooms entered an open window in the

second-story of a brick building. How delicate must have been the sense

by which they were led to make the visit, and thus made to grace my

cabinet. Bees, too, have been known to dash against a shutter behind

which were flowers, thus showing the superiority of their perception

of odors, as also their poor vision. But odors are carried by the air,

and must reach the insect through this medium. Is it not probable, that

the various breathing mouths of insects are also so many noses, and

that their delicate lining membranes abounding with, nerve filaments,

are the great odor sentinels? This view was maintained by both Lehman

and Cuvier, and explains this delicate perception of scents, as the

breathing mouths are large and numerous, and most so in insects like

bees and moths, which are most sensitive to odors. How quickly the

bees notice the scent of a strange bee or queen, or the peculiar odor

of the venom. I have known a bee to sting a glove, and in a trice the

glove would be as a pin-cushion, with stings in lieu of pins. Sometimes

the bees will dart for many feet, guided by this odor. Yet the odor

is very pungent, as I have frequently smelt the poison before I felt

the sting. I have tried the experiments of Huber and Lubbock, and know

that such insects as bees and ants will take no note of food after the

loss of their antennæ. But we must remember that this is a capital

operation. With loss of antennæ, insects lose control of their motions,

and in many ways show great disturbance. Is it not probable then that

removing the antennæ destroys the desire for food, as does amputation

with ourselves? Kirby believes with Huber, that there is a scent organ.

Huber's experiments on which he based this opinion are, as usual, very

interesting. He presented a coarse hair dipped in oil of turpentine--a

substance very repugnant to bees--to various parts of a bee engrossed

in sipping honey. The bee made no objection, even though it touched the

ligula, until it approached the mouth above the mentum, when she became

much disturbed. He also filled a bee's mouth with paste, which soon

hardened, after which the bee paid no heed to honey placed near it.

This was not so conclusive, as the bee may have been so disturbed as

to lose its appetite. I have experimented a good deal, and am inclined

to the following opinion: The antennæ are very delicate touch-organs

or feelers, and are so important in their function and connection that

removal produces a severe shock, but further we know but little about

their function, if they have other, and from the very nature of the

problem we will find it very difficult of solution.

The eyes are of two kinds, the compound, which are always present in

mature insects, and the ocelli or simple eyes, which may or may not

be present. When present there are usually three, which if we join by

lines, we will describe a triangle, in the vertices of whose angles

are the ocelli. Rarely there are but two ocelli, and very rarely but

one.

The simple eyes (Fig. 4, _f f f_) are circular, and possess a cornea,

lens and retina, which receives the nerve of sight.

From the experiments of Réaumur and Swammerdam, which consisted in

covering the eyes with varnish, they concluded that vision with

these simple eyes is very indistinct, though by them the insect can

distinguish light. Some have thought that these simple eyes were for

vision at slight distances. Larvæ, like spiders and myriapods, have

only simple eyes.

The compound eyes (Fig. 2, _e_) are simply a cluster of simple eyes,

are situated one on either side of the head, and vary much in form and

size. Between or below these are inserted the antennæ. Sometimes these

last are inserted in a notch of the eyes, and in a few cases actually

divide each eye into two eyes.

The eyes may meet above as in drones (Fig. 4), most two-wing flies

and dragon-flies, or they may be considerably separated, as in the

worker-bees (Fig. 5). The separate facets or simple eyes, of each

compound eye, are hexagonal, or six-sided, and in the microscope

look not unlike a section of honey-comb. The number of these is

prodigious--Leeuwenhoek actually counted 12,000 in the eye of a

dragon-fly--while some butterflies have, over 17,000. The compound

eyes are motionless, but from their size and sub-spherical shape, they

give quite a range of vision. It is not likely that they are capable

of adjustment to accord with different distances, and it has been

supposed, from the direct darting flight of bees to their hives, and

the awkward work they make in finding a hive when moved only for a

short distance, that their eyes are best suited to long vision.

Sir John Lubbock has proved, by some interesting experiments with

strips of colored paper, that bees can distinguish colors. Honey was

placed on a blue strip, beside several others of various colors. In

the absence of the bees he changed the position of this strip, and

upon their return the bees went to the blue strip rather than to the

old position. Our practical apiarists have long been aware of this

fact, and have conformed their practice to the knowledge, in giving

a variety of colors to their hives. Apiarists have frequently noted

that bees have a rare faculty of marking positions, but, for slight

distances, their sense of color will correct mistakes which would occur

if position alone was guide.

APPENDAGES OF THE THORAX.

The organs of flight are the most noticeable appendages of the thorax.

The wings are usually four, though the Diptera have but two, and some

insects--as the worker ants--have none. The front or primary wings

(Fig. 3, _A_) are usually larger than the secondary or hind wings

(Fig. 3, _B_), and thus the mesathoracic or middle ring of the thorax,

to which they are attached, is usually larger than the metathorax or

third ring. The wings consist of a broad frame-work of veins (Fig. 3),

covered by a thin, tough membrane. The main ribs or veins are variable

in number, while towards the extremity of the wing are more or less

cross-veins, dividing this portion of the wings into more or less

cells. In the higher groups these cells are few, and quite important in

classifying. Especially useful are the cells in the second row, from

the frontal or costal edge of the front wings, called the sub-costal

cells. Thus in the genus Apis there are three such cells (Fig. 3, _A_,

1, 2, 3), while in the Melipona there are only two. The ribs or veins

consist of a tube within a tube. The inner one forming an air tube, the

outer one carrying blood. On the costal edge of the secondary wings we

often find hooks, to attach it to the front wings (Fig. 3, _B_, _a_).

[Illustration: Fig. 7.

_Thorax of Bee magnified three times._

_a, a, a_--Muscles. _b, b_--Crust.]

The wings are moved by powerful muscles, compactly located in the

thorax (Fig. 7, _a, a, a_), whose strength, as well as the rapidity of

the vibrations of the wings when flight is rapid are really beyond

computation. Think of a tiny fly outstripping the fleetest horse in the

chase, and then marvel at this wondrous mechanism.

The legs (Fig. 2, _g, g, g_) are six in number in all mature insects,

two on the lower side of each ring of the thorax. These are long or

short, weak or strong, according to the habit of the insect. Each leg

consists of the following joints or parts: The coxæ (Fig. 24), which

move like a ball and socket joint in the close-fitting coxal cavities

of the body-rings. Next to these follow in order the broad tracanter,

the large, broad femur (Fig. 2, _g′_, 1), the long, slim tibia (Fig. 2,

_g′_, 2), frequently bearing strong spines at or near its end, called

tibial spurs, and followed by the from one to five-jointed tarsi (Fig.

2, _g′_, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3). All these parts move freely upon each other,

and will vary in form to agree with their use. At the end of the last

tarsal joint are two hooked claws (Fig. 2, _g′_, 4), between which are

the pulvilli, which are not air-pumps as usually described, but rather

glands, which secrete a sticky substance which enables insects to stick

to a smooth wall, even though it be above them. The legs, in fact the

whole crust, is more or less dense and hard, owing to the deposit

within the structure of a hard substance known as chitine.

INTERNAL ANATOMY OF INSECTS.

The muscles of insects are usually whitish. Sometimes I have noticed

quite a pinkish hue about the muscles of the thorax. They vary in form

and position to accord with their use. The mechanism of contraction is

the same as in higher animals. The ultimate fibers of the voluntary

muscles, when highly magnified, show the striæ or cross-lines the same

as do the voluntary muscles of vertebrates, and are very beautiful as

microscopic objects. The separate muscles are not bound together by

a membrane as in higher animals. In insects the muscles are widely

distributed, though, as we should expect, they are concentrated in

the thorax and head. In insects of swiftest flight, like the bee, the

thorax (Fig. 7, _a, a, a_) is almost entirely composed of muscles; the

œsophagus, which carries the food to the stomach, being very small.

At the base of the jaws, too, the muscles are large and firm. The

number of muscles is astounding. Lyonnet counted over 3,000 in a single

caterpillar, nearly eight times as many as are found in the human body.

The strength, too, of insects is prodigious. There must be quality

in muscles, for muscles as large as those of the elephant, and as

strong as those of the flea, would not need the fulcrum which the old

philosopher demanded, in order to move the world. Fleas have been made

to draw miniature cannon, chains, and even wagons many hundred times

heavier than themselves.

The nerves of insects are in no wise peculiar so far as known, except

in position. As in our bodies, some are knotted or have ganglia, and

some are not.

The main nervous cord runs along the under or ventral side of the

body (Fig. 8), separates near the head, and after passing around the

œsophagus, enlarges to form the largest of the ganglia, which serves as

a brain. The minute nerves extend everywhere, and in squeezing out the

viscera of an insect are easily visible.

The organs of circulation in insects are quite insignificant. The heart

is a long tube situated along the back, and receives the blood at

valvular openings along its sides which only permit the fluid to pass

in, when by contraction it is forced towards the head and emptied into

the general cavity. Thus the heart only serves to keep the blood in

motion. According to the best authorities, there are no special vessels

to carry the blood to various organs. Nor are they necessary, as this

nutritive fluid everywhere bathes the alimentary canal, and thus easily

receives nutriment, or gives waste by osmosis, everywhere surrounds

the tracheæ or air-tubes--the insect's lungs--and thus receives that

most needful of all food, oxygen, and gives the baneful carbonic acid,

everywhere touches the various organs, and gives and takes as the vital

operations of the animal require.

The blood is light colored, and almost destitute of discs or

corpuscles, which are so numerous in the blood of higher animals, and

which give our blood its red color. The function of these discs is to

carry oxygen, and as oxygen is carried everywhere through the body by

the ubiquitous air-tubes of insects, we see the discs are not needed.

Except these semi-fluid discs, which are real organs, and nourished as

are other organs, the blood of higher animals is entirely fluid, in

all normal conditions, and contains not the organs themselves or any

part of them, but only the elements, which are absorbed by the tissue

and converted into the organs, or, to be scientific, are assimilated.

As the blood of insects is nearly destitute of these discs, it is

almost wholly fluid, and is almost wholly made up of nutritious

substance.

[Illustration: Fig. 8.

_Nervous System of the Drone magnified four times._]

The respiratory or breathing system of insects has already been

referred to. Along the sides of the body are the spiracles or breathing

mouths, which vary in number. These are armed with a complex valvular

arrangement which excludes dust or other noxious particles. These

spiracles are lined with a delicate membrane which abounds with nerves,

which were referred to in speaking of them as smelling organs. From

these extend the labyrinth of air-tubes (Fig. 2, _f, f′_), which

breathe vitalizing oxygen into every part of the insect organism. In

the more active insects--as in bees--the main tracheæ, one on each

side of the abdomen, are expanded into large air-sacks (Fig. 2, _f_).

Insects often show a respiratory motion, which in bees is often very

marked. Newport has shown that in bees the rapidity of the respiration

gauges the heat in the hive, and thus we see why bees, in times of

severe cold, which they essay to keep at bay by forced respiration,

consume much food, exhale much foul air and moisture, and are liable

to disease. Newport found that in cases of severe cold there would be

quite a rise of mercury in a thermometer which he suspended in the

hive amidst the cluster. In the larva state, many insects breathe by

fringe-like gills. The larval mosquito has gills in form of hairy

tufts, while in the larval dragon-fly the gills are inside the rectum,

or last part of the intestine. This insect, by a muscular effort, draws

the water slowly in at the anus, when it bathes these singularly-placed

branchiæ, and then makes it serve a further turn by forcibly expelling

it, when the insect is sent darting ahead. Thus this curious apparatus

not only furnishes oxygen, but also a mode of motion. In the pupa; of

insects there is little or no motion, yet important organic changes are

taking place--the worm-like, ignoble, creeping, often repulsive larva,

is soon to appear as the airy, beautiful, active, almost ethereal

imago. So oxygen, the most essential--the _sine qua non_--of all animal

food, is still needed. The bees are too wise to seal the brood-cell

with impervious wax, but rather add the porous capping, made of wax and

pollen. The pupæ no less than the larvæ of some two-wing flies, which

live in water, have long tubes which reach far out for the vivifying

air, and are thus called rat-tailed. Even the pupæ of the mosquito,

awaiting in its liquid home the glad time when it shall unfold its tiny

wings and pipe its war-note, has a similar arrangement to secure the

gaseous pabulum.

The digestive apparatus of insects is very interesting, and, as in our

own class of animals, varies very much in length and complexity, as

the hosts of insects vary in their habits. As in mammals and birds,

the length, with some striking exceptions, varies with the food.

Carnivorous or flesh-eating insects have a short alimentary canal,

while in those that feed on vegetable food it is much longer.

[Illustration: Fig. 9.

_Alimentary Canal._

_o_--Honey stomach. _b_--True stomach.

_c_--Urinary tubes. _d_--Intestine.

]

The mouth I have already described. Following this is the throat or

pharynx, then the œsophagus or gullet, which may expand, as in the

bee, to form a honey or sucking stomach (Fig. 9, _o_), may have an

attached crop like the chicken, or may run as a uniform tube as in

our bodies, to the true stomach (Fig. 9, _b_). Following this is the

intestine--separated by some into an ileum and a rectum--which ends

in a vent or anus. In the mouth are salivary glands, which in larvæ

that form cocoons are the source of silk. In the glands this is a

viscid fluid, but as it leaves the duct it changes instantly into

the gossamer thread. Bees and wasps use this saliva in building their

structures. With it and mud some wasps make mortar; with it and wood,

others their paper cells with it and wax, the bee fashions the ribbons

that are to form the beautiful comb.

Lining the entire alimentary canal are mucous glands which secrete a

viscid fluid that keeps the tube soft, and promotes the passage of food.

The true stomach (Fig. 9, _b_) is very muscular, and often a gizzard,

as in the crickets, where its interior is lined with teeth. The

interior of the stomach is glandular, for secreting the gastric juice

which is to liquify the food, that it may be absorbed, or pass through

the walls of the canal into the blood. Attached to the lower portion of

the stomach are numerous urinary tubes (Fig. 9, _c_) though Cuvier, and

even Kirby, call these bile tubes. Siebold thinks some of the mucous

glands secrete bile, and others act as a pancreas.

The intestine when short, as in larvæ and most carnivora, is

straight and but little if any longer than the abdomen, while in

most plant eaters it is long and thus zig-zag in its course. Strange

as it may seem, the fecal pellets of some insects are beautiful in

form, and of others pleasant to the taste. In some caterpillars

they are barrel-shaped, artistically fluted, of brilliant hue,

and if fossilized, would be greatly admired, as have been the

coprolites--fossil feces of quadrupeds--if set as gems in jewelry. As

it is, they would form no mean parlor ornament. In other insects, as

the Aphides or plant-lice, the excrement, as well as the fluid that

escapes in some species from special tubes called the nectaries, is

very sweet, and in absence of floral nectar, will often be appropriated

by bees and conveyed to the hives. Imagination would make this a bitter

draught, so here, as elsewhere in life, the bitter and sweet are

mingled. In those insects that suck their food, as bees, butterflies,

moths, two-wing flies and bugs, the feces are watery or liquid, while

in case of solid food the excrement is solid.

SECRETORY ORGANS OF INSECTS.

I have already spoken of the salivary glands, which Kirby gives as

distinct from the true silk-secreting tubes, though Newport gives

them as one and the same. . In many insects these seem absent. I have

also spoken of the mucous glands, the urinary tubules, etc. Besides

these, there are other secretions which serve for purposes of defense:

In the queen and workers of bees, and in ants and wasps, the poison

intruded with the sting is an example. This is secreted by glands at

the posterior of the abdomen, stored in sacks (Fig. 25, _c_), and

extruded through the sting, as occasion requires. I know of no insects

that poison while they bite, except it be mosquitoes, gnats, etc., and

in these cases no special secreting organ has been discovered. Perhaps

the beak itself secretes an irritating substance. A few exceedingly

beautiful caterpillars are covered with branching spines, which

sting about like a nettle. We have two such species. They are green,

and of rare attraction, so that to capture them is worth the slight

inconvenience arising from their irritating punctures. Some insects,

like bugs, secrete a disgusting fluid or gas which affords protection,

as by its stench it renders these filthy bugs so offensive that even a

hungry bird or half-famished insect passes them by on the other side.

Some insects secrete a gas which is stored in a sack at the posterior

end of the body, and shot forth with an explosion in case that danger

threatens thus by noise and smoke it startles its enemy, which beats a

retreat. I have heard the little bombardier beetle at such times, even

at considerable distances. The frightful reports about the terrible

horn of the tomato-worm larva are mere nonsense. A more harmless animal

does not exist. My little boy of four years, and girl of only two, used

to bring them to me last summer, and fondle them as admiringly as would

their father upon receiving them from the delighted children.

If we except bees and wasps, there are no true insects that need be

feared; nor need we except them, for with fair usage even they, are

seldom provoked to use their cruel weapon.

SEX ORGANS OF INSECTS.

The male organs consist first of the testes (Fig. 10, a) which are

double organs. There may be from one, as in the drone bee, to several,

as in some beetles, on each side the abdominal cavity. In these

vesicles grow the sperm cells or spermatozoa, which, when liberated,

pass through a long convoluted tube, the vas-deferens (Fig. 10, _b,

b_), into the seminal sack (Fig. 10, c, c), where, in connection with

mucous, they are stored. In most insects there are glandular sacks

(Fig. 10, d) joined to these seminal receptacles, which in the male

bee or drone are very large. The sperm cells mingled with these viscid

secretions, as they appear in the seminal receptacle, ready for use,

form the seminal fluid. Extending from these seminal receptacles is the

ejaculatory duct (Fig. 10, _e, f, g_), which in copulation carries the

male fluid to the penis (Fig. 10, _d_), through which it passes to the

spermatheca of the female. Beside this latter organ are the sheath, the

claspers when present, and in the male bee those large yellow sacks

(Fig. 10, _i_), which are often seen to dart forth as the drone is held

in the warm hand.

[Illustration: Fig. 10.

_Male Organs of Drone, much magnified._

_a_--Testes. _e_--Common duct.

_b, b_--Vasa deferentia. _f, g_--Ejaculatory sack.

_c, c_--Seminal sacks. _h_--Penis.

_d_--Glandular sacks. _i_--Yellow saccules.

]

[Illustration: Fig. 11.

_Queen Organs, greatly magnified._

_a, a_--Ovaries. _d_--Sting.

_b_--Oviducts. _e_--Spermatheca.

_c_--Oviduct.

]

The female organs (Fig. 11) consist of the ovaries (Fig. 11, _a, a_),

which are situated one on either side of the abdominal cavity. From

these extend the two oviducts, (Fig. 11, _b_), which unite into

the common oviduct (Fig. 11, _c_) through which the eggs pass in

deposition. In many insects there is beside this oviduct, and connected

with it, a sack (Fig. 11, _e_) called the spermatheca, which receives

the male fluid in copulation, and which, by extruding its contents,

must ever after do the work of impregnation.

This sack was discovered and its use suggested by Malpighi as early

as 1686, but its function was not fully demonstrated till 1792, when

the great anatomist, John Hunter, showed that in copulation this was

filled. The ovaries are multitubular organs. In some insects there are

but very few tubes--two or three; while in the queen bee there are

more than one hundred. In these tubes the ova or eggs _grow_, as do

the sperm cells in the vesicles of the testes. The number of eggs is

variable. Some insects, as the mud-wasps, produce very few, while the

queen white-ant extrudes millions. The end of the oviduct, called the

ovipositor, is wonderful in its variations. Sometimes it consists of

concentric rings, like a spy-glass which may be pushed out or drawn in;

sometimes of a long tube armed with augers or saws of wonderful finish,

to prepare for eggs; or again of a tube which may also serve as a sting.

Most authors state that insects copulate only once, or at least that

the female only meets the male but once. My pupil, Clement S. Strang,

who made a special study of the structure and habits of bugs during the

past season, noticed that the squash-bugs mated many times. It would be

interesting to know whether these females possessed the spermatheca. In

some cases, as we shall see in the sequel, the male is killed by the

copulatory act. I think this curious fatality is limited to few species.

To study viscera, which of course requires very careful dissection,

we need more apparatus than has been yet described. Here a good

lens is indispensable. A small dissecting knife, a delicate pair of

forceps, and some small, sharp-pointed dissecting scissors--those of

the renowned Swammerdam were so fine at the point that it required

a lens to sharpen them--which may also serve to clip the wings of

queens--are requisite to satisfactory work. Specimens put in alcohol

will be improved, as the oil will be dissolved out and the muscle

hardened. Placing them in hot water will do nearly as well, in which

case oil of turpentine will dissolve off the fat. This may be applied

with a camel's-hair brush. By dissecting under water the loose portions

will float off, and render effective work more easy. Swammerdam, who

had that most valuable requisite to a naturalist, unlimited patience,

not only dissected out the parts, but with small glass tubes, fine

as a hair, he injected the various tubes as the alimentary canal and

air-tubes. My reader, why may not you look in upon those wondrous

beauties and marvels of God's own handiwork--nature's grand exposition?

Father, why would not a set of dissecting instruments be a most

suitable gift to your son? You might thus sow the seed which would

germinate into a Swammerdam, and that on your own hearth-stone. Messrs.

Editors, why do not you, among your apiarian supplies, keep boxes of

these instruments, and thus aid to light the torch of genius and hasten

apiarian research?

TRANSFORMATIONS OF INSECTS.

What in all the realm of nature is so worthy to awaken delight and

admiration as the astonishing changes which insects undergo? Just

think of the sluggish, repulsive caterpillar, dragging its heavy form

over clod or bush, or mining in dirt and filth, changed, by the wand

of nature's great magician, first into the motionless chrysalis,

decked with green and gold, and beautiful as the gem that glitters on

the finger of beauty, then bursting forth as the graceful, gorgeous

butterfly; which, by its brilliant tints and elegant poise, out-rivals

even the birds among the life-jewels of nature, and is made fit to

revel in all her decorative wealth. The little fly, too, with wings

dyed in rainbow-hues, flitting like, a fairy from leaf to flower, was

but yesterday the repulsive maggot, reveling in the veriest filth of

decaying nature. The grub to-day drags its slimy shape through the

slums of earth, on which it fattens; to-morrow it will glitter as

the brilliant setting in the bracelets and ear-drops of the gay and

thoughtless belle.

There are four separate stages in the development of insects: The egg

state, the larva, the pupa, and the imago.

THE EGG.

This is not unlike the same in higher animals. It has its yolk and

its surrounding white or albumen, like the eggs of all mammals, and

farther, the delicate shell, which is familiar in the eggs of birds and

reptiles. Eggs of insects are often beautiful in form and color, and

not infrequently ribbed and fluted as by a master-hand. The form of

eggs is very various--spherical, oval, cylindrical, oblong, straight

and curved (Fig. 26, _b_). All insects seem to be guided by a wonderful

knowledge, or instinct, or intelligence, in the placing of eggs on or

near the peculiar food of the larva. Even though in many cases such

food is no part of the aliment of the imago insect. The fly has the

refined habits of the epicure, from whose cup it daintily sips, yet its

eggs are placed in the horse-droppings of stable and pasture.

Inside the egg wonderful changes soon commence, and their consummation

is a tiny larva. Somewhat similar changes can be easily and most

profitably studied by breaking and examining a hen's egg each

successive day of incubation. As with the egg of our own species and

of all higher animals, so, too, the egg of insects, or the yolk, the

essential part--the white is only food, so to speak--soon segments or

divides into a great many cells, these soon unite into a membrane--the

blastoderm--and this is the initial animal. This blastoderm soon

forms a single sack, and not a double sack, one above the other, as

in our own vertebrate branch. This sack, looking like a miniature bag

of grain, grows, by absorption, becomes articulated, and by budding

out is soon provided with the various members. As in higher animals,

these changes are consequent upon heat, and usually, not always, upon

the incorporations within the eggs of the germ cells from the male,

which enter the eggs at openings called micropyles. The time it takes

the embryo inside the egg to develop is gauged by heat, and will,

therefore, vary with the season and temperature, though in different

species it varies from days to months. The number of eggs, too, which

an insect may produce, is subject to wide variation. Some insects

produce but one, two or three, while others, like the queen bee and

white ant, lay thousands, and in case of the ant, millions.

[Illustration: Fig. 12.

_Larva of Bee._]

THE LARVA OF INSECTS.

From the egg comes the larva, also called grub, maggot, caterpillar,

and very erroneously worm. These are worm-shaped (Fig. 12), usually

have strong jaws, simple eyes, and the body plainly marked into ring

divisions. Often as in case of some grubs, larval bees and maggots,

there are no legs. In most grubs there are six legs, two to each of

the three rings succeeding the head. Besides these, caterpillars have

usually ten prop-legs farther back on the body, though a few--the

loopers or measuring caterpillars--have only four or six, while the

larvæ of the saw-flies have from twelve to sixteen of the false or

prop-legs. The alimentary canal of larval insects is usually short,

direct and quite simple, while the sex-organs are slightly if at all

developed. The larvæ of insects are voracious eaters--indeed, their

only work seems to be to eat and grow fat. As the entire growth occurs

at this stage, their gormandizing habits are the more excusable. I

have often been astonished at the amount of food that the insects in

my breeding cases would consume. The length of time which insects

remain as larvæ is very variable. The maggot revels in decaying meat

but two or three days; the larval bee eats its rich pabulum for nearly

a week; the apple-tree borer gnaws away for three years; while the

seventeen-year cicada remains a larva for more than sixteen years,

groping in darkness, and feeding on roots, only to come forth for a few

days of hilarity, sunshine, and courtship. Surely, here is patience

exceeding even that of Swammerdam. The name larva, meaning masked, was

given to this stage by Linnæus, as the mature form of the insect is

hidden, and cannot be even divined by the unlearned.

THE PUPA OF INSECTS.

In this stage the insect is in profound repose, as if resting after

its long meal, the better to enjoy its active, sportive days--the

joyous honey-moon--soon to come. In this stage the insect may look

like a seed; as in the coarctate pupa of diptera, so familiar in

the "flax-seed" state of the Hessian-fly, or in the pupa of the

cheese-maggot or the meat-fly. This same form, with more or less

modification, prevails in butterfly pupæ, called, because of their

golden spots, chrysalids, and in the pupæ of moths. Other pupæ, as in

case of bees (Fig. 13, _g_) and beetles, look not unlike the mature

insect with its antennæ, legs, and wings closely bound to the body by

a thin membrane, hence the name which Linné gave--referring to this

condition--as the insect looks as if wrapped in swaddling clothes,

the old cruel way of torturing the infant, as if it needed holding

together. Aristotle called pupæ nymphs--a name now given to this stage

in bees--which name was adopted by many entomologists of the seventeeth

and eighteenth centuries. Inside the pupa skin great changes are in

progress, for either by modifying the larval organs or developing

parts entirely new, by use of the accumulated material stored by the

larva during its prolonged banquet, the wonderful transformation

from the sluggish, worm-like larva to the active, bird-like imago is

accomplished.

[Illustration: Fig. 13.

_Pupa or Nymph of Bee, slightly magnified._]

Sometimes the pupa is surrounded by a silken cocoon, either thick, as

the cocoon of some moths, or thin, as are the cocoons of bees. These

cocoons are spun by the larvæ as their last toil before assuming

the restful pupa state. The length of time in the pupa-stage is

very various, lasting from a few days to as many months. Sometimes

insects which are two-brooded remain as pupa but a few days in summer,

while in winter they are months passing the quiescent period. Our

cabbage-butterfly illustrates this peculiarity. Others, like the

Hessian-fly and codling-moth, remain through the long, cold months as

larvæ. How wonderful is this! The first brood of larvæ change to pupæ

at once, the last brood, though the weather be just as hot, wait over

inside the cocoon till the warm days of coming spring.

THE IMAGO STAGE.

This term refers to the last or winged form, and was given by Linné

because the image of the insect is now real and not masked as when in

the larva state. Now the insect has its full-formed legs and wings, its

compound eyes, complex mouth-parts, and the fully developed sex-organs.

In fact, the whole purpose of the insect now seems to be to reproduce

itself. Many insects do not even eat, only flit in merry marriage mood

for a brief space, when the male flees this life to be quickly followed

by the female, she only waiting to place her eggs where the prospective

infants may find suitable food. Some insects not only place their eggs,

but feed and care for their young, as is true of ants, wasps and bees.

Again, as in case of some species of ants and bees, abortive females

perform all, or most of the labor in caring for the young. The life

of the imago also varies much as to duration. Some live but for a

day, others make merry for several days, while a few species live for

months. Very few imagos survive the whole year.

INCOMPLETE TRANSFORMATIONS.

Some insects, like the bugs, lice, grasshoppers and locusts, are

quite alike at all stages of growth, after leaving the egg. The only

apparent difference is the smaller size and the absence or incomplete

development of the wings in the larvæ and pupæ. The habits and

structure from first to last seem to be much the same. Here, as before,

the full development of the sex-organs occurs only in the imago.

ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY OF THE HONEY-BEE.

With a knowledge of the anatomy and some glimpses of the physiology

of insects in general, we shall now find it easy to learn the special

anatomy and physiology of the highest insects of the order.

THREE KINDS OF BEES IN EACH FAMILY.

As we have already seen, a very remarkable feature in the economy of

the honey-bee, described even by Aristotle, which is true of many

other bees, and also of ants and many wasps, is the presence in each

family of three distinct kinds, which differ in form, color, structure,

size, habits and function. Thus we have the queen, a number of drones,

and a far greater number of workers. Huber, Bevan, Munn and Kirby

also speak of a fourth kind blacker than the usual workers. These are

accidental, and are, as conclusively shown by Von Berlepsch, ordinary

workers, more deeply colored by loss of hair, dampness, or some other

atmospheric condition. American apiarists are too familiar with these

black bees, for after our severe winters they prevail in the colony,

and, as remarked by the noted Baron, "_They quickly_ disappear." Munn

also tells of a fifth kind, with a top-knot, which appears at swarming

seasons. I am at a great loss to know what he refers to, unless it be

the pollen masses of the asclepias or milk-weed, which sometimes fasten

to our bees and become a severe burden.

THE QUEEN BEE.

The queen (Fig. 14), although referred to as the mother bee, was called

the king by Virgil, Pliny, and by writers as late as the last century,

though in the ancient "Bee Master's Farewell," by John Hall, published

in London in 1796, I find an admirable description of the queen bee,

with her function correctly stated. Réaumur as quoted by "Wildman on

Bees," published in London in 1770, says "this third sort has a grave

and sedate walk, is armed with a sting, and is mother of all the

others."

Huber, to whom every apiarist owes so much, and who, though blind,

through the aid of his devoted wife and intelligent servant, Frances

Burnens, developed so many interesting facts, demonstrated the fact of

the queen's maternity. This author's work, second edition, published in

Edinburgh, in 1808, gives a full history of his wonderful observations

and experiments, and must ever rank with Langstroth as a classic,

worthy of study by all.

[Illustration: Fig. 14.

_Queen Bee, magnified._]

The queen, then, is the mother bee, in other words, a fully developed

female. Her ovaries (Fig. 11, _a, a_) are very large, nearly filling

her long abdomen. The tubes already described as composing them are

very numerous, while the spermatheca (Fig. 11, _e_) is plainly visible.

This is muscular, receives abundant nerves, and thus, without doubt,

may or may not be compressed to force the sperm cells in contact

with the eggs as they pass by the duet. Leuckart estimates that the

spermatheca will hold more than 25,000,000 spermatozoa.

The possession of the ovaries and attendant organs, is the chief

structural peculiarity which marks the queen, as these are the

characteristic marks of females among all animals. But she has other

peculiarities worthy of mention She is longer than either drones or

workers, being more than seven-eighths of an inch in length, and,

with her long tapering abdomen, is not without real grace and beauty.

The queen's mouth organs, too, are developed to a less degree than

are those of the worker-bees. Her jaws (Fig. 21, _b_) or mandibles

are weaker, with a rudimentary tooth, and her tongue or ligula (Fig.

15, _a_), as also the labial palpi (Fig. 15, _b_) and maxillæ are

considerably shorter. Her eyes, like the same in the worker-bee (Fig.

5), are smaller than those of the drones, and do not meet above. So the

three ocelli are situated above and between. The queen's wings, too,

(Fig. 14) are relatively shorter than those either of the workers or

drones, for instead of attaining to the end of the body, they reach but

little beyond the third joint of the abdomen. The queen, though she has

the characteristic posterior tibia and basal tarsus (Fig. 16, _p_), in

respect to breadth, has not the cavity and surrounding hairs, which

form the pollen baskets of the workers.

[Illustration: Fig. 15.

_Labium of Queen._

_a_--Ligula. _b_--Labial palpi.

_d, d_--Paraglossæ.

]

The queen possesses a sting (Fig. 11, _d_) which is longer than that of

the workers, and resembles that of the bumble-bees in being curved, and

that of bumble-bees and wasps in having few and short barbs--the little

projections which point back like the barb of a fish-hook, and which,

in case of the workers, prevent the withdrawing of the instrument,

when once fairly inserted. While there are seven quite prominent barbs

on each shaft of the worker's sting, there are only three on those of

the queen, and these are very short, and, as in a worker's sting, they

are successively shorter as we recede from the point of the weapon.

Aristotle says that the queen will seldom use her sting, which I have

found true. I have often tried to provoke a queen's anger, but never

with any evidence of success. Neighbour (page 14, note) gives three

cases where queens used their stings, in one of which cases she was

disabled from farther egg-laying. She stings with slight effect.

[Illustration: Fig. 16.

_Part of Leg of Queen, magnified._

_t_--Tibia.

_p_--Broadened tibia and basal tarsus.

_t s_--Tarsal joints.

]

The queen, like the neuters, is developed from an impregnated egg,

which, of course, could only come from a queen that had previously

mated. These eggs are not placed in a horizontal cell, but in one

specially prepared for their reception (Fig. 26, _i_). These queen

cells are usually built on the edge of the comb, or around an opening

in it, which is necessitated from their size and form, as usually the

combs are too close together to permit their location elsewhere. These

cells extend either vertically or diagonally downward, are composed of

was mixed with pollen, and in size and form much resemble a pea-nut.

The eggs must be placed in these cells, either by the queen or workers.

Huber, who though blind had wondrous eyes, also witnessed the act. I

have frequently seen eggs in these cells, and without exception in

the exact position in which the queen always places her eggs in the

other cells. John Hall, in the old work already referred to, whose

descriptions, though penned so long ago, are wonderfully accurate, and

indicate great care, candor, and conscientious truthfulness, asserts

that the queen is five times as long laying a royal egg as she is the

others. From the character of his work, and its early publication,

I can but think that he had witnessed this rare sight. Some candid

apiarists of our own time and country--E. Gallup among the rest--claim

to have witnessed the act. The eggs are so well glued, and are so

delicate, that, with Neighbour, I doubt the possibility of a removal.

The opponents to this view base their belief on a supposed discord

between the queen and neuters. This antagonism is inferred, and I

have but little faith in the inference, or the argument from it. I

know that when royal cells are to be torn down, and inchoate queens

destroyed, the workers aid the queen in this destruction. I have also

seen queens pass by unguarded queen-cells, and yet respect them. I have

also seen several young queens dwelling amicably together in the same

hive. Is it not probable that the bees are united in whatever is to

be accomplished, and that when queens are to be destroyed all spring

to the work, and when they are to live all regard them as sacred? It

is true that the actions of bees are controlled and influenced by

the surrounding conditions or circumstances, but I have yet to see

satisfactory proof of the old theory that these conditions impress

differently the queen and the workers. The conditions which lead to

the building of queen-cells and the peopling of the same are--loss of

queen, when a worker larva from one to four days old will be surrounded

by a cell inability of a queen to lay impregnated eggs, her spermatheca

having become emptied; great number of worker-bees in the hive;

restricted quarters; the queen not having place to deposit eggs, or the

workers little or no room to store honey and lack of ventilation, so

that the hive becomes too close. These last three conditions are most

likely to occur at times of great honey secretion.

A queen may be developed from an egg, or from a worker larva less

than three days old. Mr. Doolittle has known queens to be reared from

worker larvæ taken at four-and-a-half days from hatching. In this

latter case, the cells adjacent to the one containing the selected

larva are removed, and the larva surrounded by a royal cell. The

development of the queen larva is much like that of the worker, soon to

be detailed, except that it is more rapid, and is fed richer and more

plenteous food, called royal jelly. This peculiar food, as also its use

and abundance in the cell, was first described by Schirach, a Saxon

clergyman, who wrote a work on bees in 1771. According to Hunter, this

royal pabulum is richer in nitrogen than that of the common larvæ. It

is thick, like rich cream; slightly yellow, and so abundant that the

queen larva not only floats in it during all its period of growth, but

quite a large amount remains after her queenship vacates the cell. We

often find this royal jelly in incomplete queen-cells, without larvæ.

Mr. Quinby suggests that this is stored for future use.

What a mysterious circumstance is this: These royal scions simply

receive a more abundant and sumptuous diet, and occupy a more ample

habitation--for I have more than once confirmed the statement of Mr.

Quinby, that the direction of the cell is immaterial--and yet what

a marvelous transformation. Not only are the ovaries developed and

filled with eggs, but the mouth-organs, the wing's, the legs, and

the sting, aye, and the size, form and habits are all wondrously

changed. That the development of parts should be accelerated, and the

size increased is not so surprising--as in breeding other insects

I have frequently found that kind and amount of food, would hasten

or retard growth, and might even cause a dwarfed imago--but that it

should so essentially modify the structure, is certainly a rare and

unique circumstance, hardly to be found except here and in related

animals. Bevan has suggested that fertile workers', while larvæ,

have received some of this royal jelly, from their position near a

developing queen. Langstroth supposes that they receive some royal

jelly, purposely given by the workers, and I had previously thought

this reasonable, and probably true. But these pests of the apiarist,

and especially of the breeder, almost always, so far as I have

observed, make their appearance in colonies long queenless, and I have

noticed a case similar to that given by Quinby, where these occurred

in a nucleus where no queen had been developed. May it not be true,

that a desire for eggs stimulates growth of the ovaries, growth of eggs

in the ovarian tubes, and consequent ability to deposit. The common

high-holder, Colaptes auratus--a bird belonging to the woodpecker

family, usually lays five eggs, and only five; but let cruel hands rob

her of these promises of future loved ones--and wondrous to relate,

she continues to lay more than a score. One thus treated, here on

the College campus, actually laid more than thirty eggs. So we see

that animal desires may influence and move organs that are generally

independent of the will.

The larval queen is longer and more rapid of development than the other

larvæ. When developed from the egg--as in case of normal swarming--the

larva feeds for five days, when the cell is capped by the workers.

The infant queen then spins her cocoon, which occupies about one day.

The end of the cocoon is left open. Some one has suggested that this

is an act of thoughtful generosity on the part of the queen larva,

thus to render her own destruction more easy, should the welfare of

the colony demand it, as now a sister queen may safely give the fatal

sting. The queen now spends nearly three days in absolute repose. Such

rest is common to all cocoon-spinning larvæ. The spinning, which is

done by a rapid motion to and fro of the head, always carrying the

delicate thread, much like the moving shuttle of the weaver, seems to

bring exhaustion and need of repose. She now assumes the nymph or pupa

state (Fig. 26, _i_). At the end of the sixteenth day she comes forth a

queen. Huber states that when a queen emerges, the bees are thrown into

a joyous excitement, so that he noted a rise in the temperature of the

hive from 92° F. to 104° F. I have never tested this matter accurately,

but I have failed to notice any marked demonstration on the natal day

of her lady-ship the queen, or extra respect paid her as a virgin. When

queens are started from worker larvæ, they will issue as images in ten

or twelve days from the date of their new prospects. Mr. Doolittle

writes me that he has known them to issue in eight and one-half days.

As the queen's development is probably due to superior quality and

increased quantity of food, it would stand to reason that queens

started from eggs are preferable; the more so, as under normal

circumstances, I believe, they are almost always thus started. The best

experience sustains this position. As the proper food and temperature

could best be secured in a full colony--and here again the natural

economy of the hive adds to our argument--we should infer that the

best queens would be reared in strong colonies, or at least kept in

such colonies till the cells were capped. Experience also confirms

this view. As the quantity and quality of food, and the general

activity of the bees is directly connected with the full nourishment

of the queen-larva, and as these are only at the maximum in times of

active gathering--the time when queen-rearing is naturally started by

the bees--we should also conclude that queens reared at such seasons

are superior. My experience--and I have carefully observed in this

connection--most emphatically sustains this view.

Five or six days after issuing from the cell--Neighbour says the third

day--if the day is pleasant, the queen goes forth on her "marriage

flight" otherwise she will improve the first pleasant day thereafter

for this purpose. Huber was the first to prove that impregnation

always takes place on the wing. Bonnet also proved that the same

is true of ants, though in this case millions of queens and drones

often swarm out at once. I have myself witnessed several of these

wholesale matrimonial excursions among ants. I have also frequently

taken bumble-bees in copulo while on the wing. I have also noticed

both ants and bumble-bees to fall while united probably borne down by

the expiring males. That butterflies! moths, dragon-flies, etc., mate

on the wing is a matter of common observation. That it is possible to

impregnate queens when confined, I think very doubtful. The queens will

caress the drones, but the latter seem not to heed their advances. That

this ever has been done I also question, though many think they have

positive proof that it has occurred. Yet, as there are so many chances

to be mistaken, and as experience and observation are so excessive

against the possibility, I think that these may be cases of hasty or

inaccurate judgment. Many, very many, with myself, have followed Huber

in clipping the queen's wing, only to produce a sterile or drone-laying

queen. Prof Leuckart believes that successful mating demands that the

large air-sacks (Fig. 2, _f_) of the drones shall be filled, which he

thinks is only possible during flight. The demeanor of the drones leads

me to think, that the excitement of flight, like the warmth of the

hand, is necessary to induce the sexual impulse.

I presume, that in all the future, Huber's statement that the queen

must take wing to be impregnated, will remain unrefuted. Yet it will do

no harm to keep trying. Success may come. Mating, too, in green-houses

or rooms is also impracticable. I have given this thorough trial. The

drones are incorrigible cowards, and their inordinate fear seems even

to overcome the sexual desires.

If the queen fails to find an admirer the first day, she will go forth

again and again till she succeeds. Huber stated that after twenty-one

days the case is hopeless. Bevan states that if impregnated from the

fifteenth to the twenty-first she will be largely a drone-laying queen.

That such absolute dates can be fixed in either of the above cases is

very questionable. Yet, all experienced breeders know that queens kept

through the winter as virgins are sure to remain so. It is quite likely

that the long inactivity of the spermatheca wholly or in part paralyzes

it, so that queens that are late in mating cannot impregnate the eggs

as she desires. This would accord with what we know of muscular

organs. Berlepsch believed that a queen that commenced laying as a

virgin could never lay impregnated eggs, even though she afterwards

mated. Langstroth thought that he had observed to the contrary.

If the queen be observed after a successful "wedding tour," she will

be seen to bear the marks of success in the pendant drone appendages,

consisting of the penis, the yellow cul-de-sacks, and the hanging

thread-like ducts.

It is not at all likely that a queen, after she has met a drone, ever

leaves the hive again except that she leaves with a swarm. Some of the

observing apiarists think that an old queen may be again impregnated.

The fact that queens, with clipped wings, are as long fertile as

others, makes me think that cases which have led to such conclusions

are capable of other explanation.

If the queen lays eggs before meeting the drones, or if for any reason

she fails to mate, her eggs will only produce male bees. This strange

anomaly--development of the eggs without impregnation--was discovered

and proved by Dzierzon, in 1845. Dr. Dzierzon, who, as a student of

practical and scientific apiculture, must rank with the great Huber, is

a Roman Catholic priest of Carlesmarkt, Germany. This doctrine--called

parthenogenesis, which means produced from a virgin--is still doubted

by some quite able bee-keepers, though the proofs are irrefragable:

1st. Unmated queens will lay eggs that will develop, but drones always

result. 2d. Old queens often become drone-layers, but examination shows

that the spermatheca is void of seminal fluid. Such an examination

was first made by Prof. Siebold, the great German anatomist, in 1813,

and later by Leuckart and Leidy. I have myself made several such

examinations. The spermatheca can easily be seen by the unaided vision,

and by crushing it on a glass slide, by compressing with a thin glass

cover, the difference between the contained fluid in the virgin and

impregnated queen is very patent, even with a low power. In the latter

it is more viscid and yellow, and the vesicle more distended. By use

of a high power, the active spermatozoa or germ-cells become visible.

3d. Eggs in drone-cells are found by the microscopist to be void of the

sperm-cells, which are always found in all other fresh-laid eggs. This

most convincing, and interesting observation, was first made by Von

Siebold, at the suggestion of Berlepsch. It is quite difficult to show

this. Leuckart tried before Von Siebold, at Berlepsch's apiary, but

failed. I have also tried to discover these germ-cells in worker-eggs,

but as yet have been unsuccessful. Siebold has noted the same facts in

eggs of wasps. 4th. Dr. Dönhoff, of Germany, in 1855, took an egg from

a drone-cell, and by artificial impregnation produced a worker-bee.

Such an operation, to be successful, must be performed as soon as the

egg is laid.

Parthenogenesis, in the production of males, has also been found

by Siebold to be true of other bees and wasps, and of some of the

lower moths, in the production of both males and females. While the

great Bonnet first discovered what may be noticed on any summer day,

all about us, even on the house-plants at our very windows, that

parthenogenesis is best illustrated by the aphides or plant lice. In

the fall males and females appear, which mate, when the female lays

eggs, which in the spring produce only females; these again produce

only females, and thus on, for several generations, till with the

cold of autumn come again the males and females. Bonnet observed

seven successive generations of productive virgins. Duval noted

nine generations in seven months, while Kyber observed production

exclusively by parthenogenesis in a heated room for four years. So, we

see, that this strange and almost incredible method of increase, is not

rare in the great insect world.

About two days after she is impregnated, the queen, under normal

circumstances, commences to lay, usually worker-eggs, and as the

condition of the hive seldom impels to swarming the same summer, so

that no drones are required, she usually lays no others the first

season.

It is frequently noticed that the young queen at first lays quite

a number of drone-eggs. Queen-breeders often observe this in their

nuclei. This continues for only a few days. This does not seem strange.

The act of forcing the sperm-cells from the spermatheca is muscular and

voluntary, and that these muscles should not always act promptly at

first, is not strange, nor is it unprecedented. Mr. Wagner suggested

that the size of the cell determined the sex, as in the small cells

the pressure on the abdomen forced the fluid from the spermatheca. Mr.

Quinby also favored this view. I greatly question this theory. All

observing apiarists have known eggs to be laid in worker-cells, ere the

cell was hardly commenced, when there could be no pressure. In case of

queen-cells, too, if the queen does lay the eggs--as I believe--these

would be unimpregnated, as the cell is very large. I know the queen

sometimes passes from drone to worker-cells very abruptly while laying,

as I have witnessed such a procedure--the same that so greatly rejoiced

the late Baron of Berlepsch, after weary hours of watching--but

that she can thus control at the instant this process of adding or

withholding the sperm-cells, certainly seems not so strange as that

the spermatheca, hardly bigger than a pin-head, could supply these

cells for months, yes, and for years. Who that has seen the bot-fly

dart against the horse's legs, and as surely leave the tiny yellow egg,

can doubt but that insects possess very sensitive oviducts, and can

extrude the minute eggs just at pleasure. That a queen may force single

eggs, at will, past the mouth of the spermatheca, and at the same time

add or withhold the sperm-cells, is, I think, without question, true.

What gives added force to this view, is the fact that other bees,

wasps and ants exercise the same volition, and can have no aid from

cell-pressure, as all the eggs are laid in receptacles of the same

size. But the Baron of Berlepsch, worthy to be a friend of Dzierzon,

has fully decided the matter. He has shown that old drone cells are as

small as new worker-cells, and yet each harbors its own brood. Very

small queens, too, make no mistakes. With no drone-cells, the queen

will sometimes lay drone-eggs in worker-cells, in which drones will

then be reared. And will, if she must, though with great reluctance,

lay worker-eggs in drone-cells.

Before laying an egg, the queen takes a look into the cell, probably

to see if all is right. If the cell contains any honey, pollen, or

an egg, she usually passes it by, though when crowded, a queen will

sometimes, _especially if young_, insert two or three eggs in a cell,

and sometimes, in such cases, she drops them, when the bees show

their dislike of waste, and appreciation of good living, by making a

breakfast of them. If the queen finds the cell to her liking, she

turns about, inserts her abdomen, and in an instant the tiny egg is

glued, in position (Fig. 26, _b_) to the bottom of the cell.

The queen, when considered in relation to the other bees of the colony,

possesses a surprising longevity. It is not surprising for her to

attain the age of three years in the full possession of her powers,

while they have been known to do good work for five years. Queens,

often at the expiration of one, two, three or four years, depending on

their vigor and excellence, either cease to be fertile, or else become

impotent to lay impregnated eggs--the spermatheca having become emptied

of its sperm-cells. In such cases the workers usually supersede the

queen; that is they destroy the old queen, ere all the worker-eggs are

gone, and take of the few remaining ones to start queen-cells, and thus

rear young, fertile and vigorous queens.

It sometimes happens, though rarely, that a fine-looking queen, with

full-formed ovaries, and large spermatheca, well-filled with male

fluid, will deposit freely, but none of the eggs will hatch. Readers

of the bee-publications know that I have frequently received such for

dissection. The first I ever got was a remarkably fine-looking Italian,

received from the late Dr. Hamlin, of Tennessee. All such queens that I

have examined seem perfect, even though scrutinized with a high-power

objective. We can only say that the egg is at fault, as frequently

transpires with higher animals, even to the highest. These females are

barren; through some fault with the ovaries, the eggs grown therein

are sterile. To detect just what is the trouble with the egg is a very

difficult problem, if it is capable of solution at all. I have tried to

determine the ultimate cause, but without success.

The function of the queen is simply to lay eggs, and thus keep the

colony populous; and this she does with an energy that is fairly

startling. A good queen in her best estate will lay two or three

thousand eggs a day. I have seen a queen in my observing hive, lay

for some time at the rate of four eggs per minute, and have proved by

actual computation of brood cells, that a queen may lay over three

thousand eggs in a day. Langstroth and Berlepsch both saw queens lay at

the rate of six eggs a minute.

The latter had a queen that laid three thousand and twenty-one eggs

in 24 hours, by actual count, and in 20 days she laid fifty-seven

thousand. This queen continued prolific for five years, and must have

laid, says the Baron, at a low estimate, more than 1,300,000 eggs.

Dzierzon says queens may lay 1,000,000 eggs, and I think these authors

have not exaggerated. Yet, with even these figures as an advertisement,

the queen bee cannot boast of superlative fecundity, as the queen

white-ant--an insect closely related to the bees in habits, though

not in structure, as the white-ants are lace-wings and belong to the

sub-order Neuroptera, which includes our day-flies, dragon-flies,

etc.--is known to lay over 80,000 eggs daily. Yet this poor helpless

thing, whose abdomen is the size of a man's thumb, and composed almost

wholly of eggs, while the rest of her body is not larger than the

same in our common ants, has no other amusement; she cannot walk; she

cannot even feed herself or care for her eggs. What wonder then that

she should attempt big things in the way of egg-laying? She has nothing

else to do, or to feel proud of.

Different queens vary as much in fecundity as do different breeds of

fowls. Some queens are so prolific that they fairly demand hives of

India rubber to accommodate them, keeping their hives gushing with

bees and profitable activity while others are so inferior, that the

colonies make a poor, sickly effort to survive at all, and usually

succumb early, before those adverse circumstances which are ever

waiting to confront all life on the globe. The activity of the queen,

too, is governed largely by the activity of the workers. The queen will

either lay sparingly, or stop altogether, in the interims of storing

honey, while, on the other hand, she is stimulated to lay to her utmost

capacity, when all is life and activity in the hive.

It would seem that the queen either reasons from conditions, is taught

by instinct, or else that without her volition the general activity

of the worker-bees stimulates the ovaries, how, we know not, to grow

more eggs. We know that such a stimulus is born of desire, in case of

the high-holder, already referred to. That the queen may have control

of the activity of her ovaries, either directly or indirectly, through

reflex nervous action induced by the general excitement of the bees,

which always follows active storing, is not only possible, but quite

likely.

The old poetical notion that the queen is the revered and admired

sovereign of the colony, whose pathway is ever lined by obsequious

courtiers, whose person is ever the recipient of loving caresses,

and whose will is law in this bee-hive kingdom, controlling all the

activities inside the hive, and leading the colony whithersoever they

may go, is unquestionably mere fiction. In the hive, as in the world,

individuals are valued for what they are worth. The queen, as the most

important individual, is regarded with solicitude, and her removal

or loss noted with consternation, as the welfare of the colony is

threatened; yet, let the queen become useless, and she is despatched

with the same absence of emotion that characterizes the destruction of

the drones when they have become supernumeraries. It is very doubtful

if emotion or sentimentality are ever moving forces among the lower

animals. There are probably certain natural principles that govern

in the economy of the hive, and aught that conspires against, or

tends to intercept the action of these principles, becomes an enemy

to the bees. All are interested, and doubtless more united than is

generally believed, in a desire to promote the free action of these

principles. No doubt the principle of antagonism among the various bees

has been overrated. Even, the drones, when they are being killed off

in the autumn, make a sickly show of defense, as much as to say, the

welfare of the colony demands that such worthless vagrants should be

exterminated; "so mote it be;" go ahead. The statement, too, that there

is often serious antagonism between the queen and workers, as to the

destruction or preservation of inchoate queens, yet in the cell, is a

matter which may well be investigated. It is most probable that what

tends most for the prosperity of the colony is well understood by all,

and without doubt there is harmonious action among all the denizens of

the hive, to foster that which will advance the general welfare, or to

make war on whatever may tend to interfere with it. If the course of

any of the bees seems wavering and inconsistent, we may rest assured

that circumstances have changed, and that could we perceive the bearing

of all the surrounding conditions, all would appear consistent and

harmonious.

[Illustration: Fig. 17.

_Drone Bee, magnified._]

THE DRONES.

These are the male bees, and are generally found in the hive only

from May to November: though they may remain all winter, and are not

infrequently absent during the summer. Their presence or absence

depends on the present and prospective condition of the colony. If they

are needed, or likely to be needed, then they are present. There are

in nature several hundred in each colony. The number may and should

be greatly reduced by the apiarist. These (Fig. 17) are shorter than

the queen, being less than three-fourths of an inch in length, are

more robust and bulky than either the queen or workers, and are easily

recognized when flying by their loud, startling hum. As in other

societies, the least useful make the most noise. This loud hum is

caused by the less rapid vibration of their large, heavy wings. Their

flight is more heavy and lumbering than that of the workers. Their

ligula, labial palpi, and maxillæ--like the same in the queen bee--are

short, while their jaws (Fig. 21, _a_) possess the rudimentary tooth,

and are much the same in form as those of the queen, but are heavier,

though not so strong as those of the workers. Their eyes (Fig. 4)

are very prominent, meet above, and thus the simple eyes are thrown

forward. Their posterior legs are convex on the outside (Fig. 18), so,

like the queens, they have no pollen baskets. The drones are without

the defensive organ, having no sting, while their special sex-organs

(Fig. 10) are not unlike those of other insects, and have already been

sufficiently described.

[Illustration: Fig. 18.

_Part of Leg of Drone, magnified._

_t_--Tibia.

_p_--Broadened tibia and basal tarsus.

_t s_--Joints of Tarsus,

_c_--Claws.

]

It was discovered by Dzierzon, in 1845, that the drones hatch from

unimpregnated eggs. This strange phenomenon, seemingly so incredible,

is as has been shown in speaking of the queen, easily proved and beyond

question. These eggs may come from an unimpregnated queen, a fertile

worker--which will soon be further described--or from an impregnated

queen, which may voluntarily prevent impregnation. Such eggs may be

placed in the larger horizontal cells (Fig. 28, _a_), in manner already

described. As stated by Bevan, the drone feeds six and a half days as

a larva, before the cell is capped. The capping of the drone-cells is

very convex, and projects beyond the plane of the same in worker-cells,

so that the drone brood is easily distinguished from worker, and from

the darker color--the wax being thicker and less pure--the capping of

both drone and worker brood-cells enable us easily to distinguish them

from honey-cells. In twenty-four days from the laying of the egg, the

drones come forth from the cells. Of course variation of temperature,

and other conditions, as variable amount of diet, may slightly retard

or advance the development of any brood, in the different stages. The

drones--in fact all bees--when they first emerge from the cells, are

gray, soft, and appear generally unsophisticated.

Just what the longevity of the male bee is, I am unable to state. It

is probable, judging from analogy, that they live till accident, the

worker bees, or the performance of their natural function causes their

death. The worker-bees are liable to kill off the drones, which they

do by constantly biting and worrying them. They may also destroy the

drone-brood. It is not very rare to see workers carrying out immature

drones even in mid-summer. At the same time, too, they may destroy

inchoate queens. Such action is prompted by a sudden check in the

yield of honey, and with the drones is most common at the close of

the season. The bees seem very cautious and far-sighted. If the signs

of the times presage a famine, they stay all proceedings looking to

the increase of colonies. On the other hand, unlimited honey, rapid

increase of brood, crowded quarters--whatever the age of the queen--is

sure to bring many of the male bees. While any circumstances that

indicate a future need of drones will prevent their destruction even in

late autumn.

The function of the drones is solely to impregnate the queen, though

when present they may add animal heat. That their nutrition is active,

is suggested by the fact, that upon dissection, we always find their

capacious stomachs filled with honey.

Impregnation of the queen always takes place, as before stated, while

on the wing, outside the hive, usually during the heat of warm sunshiny

days. After mating, the drone organs adhere to the queen, and may be

seen hanging to her for some hours. The copulatory act is fatal to the

drones. By holding a drone in the hand, the ejection of the sex-organs

is often produced, and always followed by immediate death. As the

queen only meets a single drone, and that only once, it might be asked

why nature was so improvident as to decree hundreds of drones to an

apiary or colony, whereas a score would suffice as well. Nature takes

cognizance of the importance of the queen, and as she goes forth amidst

the myriad dangers of the outer world, it is safest and best that her

stay abroad be not protracted; that the experience be not repeated,

and especially, that her meeting a drone be _not delayed_. Hence the

superabundance of drones--especially under natural conditions, isolated

in forest homes, where ravenous birds are ever on the alert for insect

game--is most wise and provident. Nature is never "penny wise and pound

foolish." In our apiaries the need is wanting, and the condition, as it

exists in nature, is not enforced.

The fact that parthenogenesis prevails in the production of the drones,

has led to the theory that from a pure queen, however mated, must ever

come a pure drone. My own experience and observation, which I believe

are those of all apiarists, has confirmed this theory. Yet, if the

impure mating of our cows, horses, and fowls, renders the females of

mixed blood ever afterward, as is believed and taught by many who would

seem most competent to judge--though I must say I am somewhat skeptical

in the matter--then we must look closely as to our bees, for certainly,

if a mammal, and especially a fowl, is tainted by impure mating, then

we may expect the same of insects. In fowls such influence, if it

exists, must come simply from the presence in the female generative

organs of the germ-cells, or spermatozoa, and in mammals, too, there

is little more than this, for though they are viviparous, so that the

union and contact of the offspring and mother seems very intimate,

during fœtal development, yet there is no intermingling of the blood,

for a membrane ever separates that of the mother from that of the

fœtus, and only the nutritious and waste elements pass from one to the

other. To claim that the mother is tainted through the circulation,

is like claiming that the same result would follow her inhaling the

breath of her progeny after birth. I can only say, that I believe this

whole matter is still involved in doubt, and still needs more careful,

scientific and prolonged observation.

THE NEUTERS, OR WORKER-BEES.

These, called "the bees," by Aristotle, and even by Wildman and Bevan,

are by far the most numerous individuals of the hive--there being from

15,000 to 40,000 in every good colony. It is possible for a colony to

be even much more populous than this. These are also the smallest bees

of the colony, as they measure but little more than one-half of an inch

in length (Fig. 19).

[Illustration: Fig. 19.

_Worker-Bee, magnified._]

The workers--as taught by Schirach, and proved by Mlle. Jurine, of

Geneva, Switzerland, who, at the request of Huber, sought for and

found, by aid of her microscope, the abortive ovaries--are undeveloped

females. Rarely, and probably very rarely, except that a colony is long

or often queenless, as is frequently true of our nuclei, these bees are

so far developed as to produce eggs, which, of course, would always

be drone eggs. Such workers--known as fertile--were first noticed by

Riem, while Huber actually saw one in the act of egg-laying. Except

in the power to produce eggs, they seem not unlike the other workers.

Huber supposed that these were reared in cells contiguous to royal

cells, and thus received royal food by accident. The fact, as stated by

Mr. Quinby, that these occur in colonies where queen-larvæ were never

reared, is fatal to the above theory. Langstroth and Berlepsch thought

that these bees, while larvæ, were fed, though too sparingly, with the

royal aliment, by bees in need of a queen, and hence the accelerated

development. Such may be the true explanation. Yet if, as some

apiarists aver, these appear where no brood has been fed, and so must

be common workers, changed after leaving the cell, as the result of a

felt need, then we must conclude that development and growth--as with

the high-holder--spring from desire. The generative organs are very

sensitive, and exceedingly susceptible to impressions, and we may yet

have much to learn as to the delicate forces which will move them to

growth and activity. Though these fertile workers are a poor substitute

for a queen, as they are incapable of producing any but drones, and are

surely the harbingers of death and extinction to the colony, yet they

seem to satisfy the workers, for they will not brook the presence of a

queen when a fertile worker is in the hive, nor will they suffer the

existence in the hive of a queen-cell, even though capped. They seem

to be satisfied, though they have very slight reason to be so. These

fertile workers lay indifferently in large or small cells--often place

several eggs in a single cell, and show their incapacity in various

ways.

[Illustration: Fig. 20.

_Tongue of a Worker-Bee, much magnified._]

_a_--Ligula. _c, c_--Maxillæ.

_b, b_--Labial palpi. _d_--Paraglossæ.

[The average length of a black worker's tongue, as compared with this

from an Italian, would be from base to _a_.]

The workers, as might be surmised by the importance and variety of

their functions, are structurally very peculiar Their tongues (Fig. 20,

_a_), labial palpi (Fig. 20, _b, b_), and maxillæ (Fig. 20, _c, c_),

are very much elongated, while the former is very hairy, and doubles

under the throat when not in use. The length of the ligula enables them

to reach into flowers with long tubes, and by aid of the hairs they lap

up the nectar. When the tongue is big with its adhering load of sweet,

it is doubled back, enclosed by the labial palpi and maxillæ, and then

extended, thus losing its load of nectar, which at the same time is

sucked into the large honey-stomach. The bees, at will, can force the

honey back from the honey-stomach, when it is stored in the honey-cells

or given to the other bees.

[Illustration: Fig. 21.

_a_--Jaw of drone.

_b_--Jaw of queen.

_c_--Jaw of worker.

]

The jaws (Fig. 21, _c_) are very strong, without the rudimentary tooth,

while the cutting edge is semi-conical, so that when the jaws are

closed they form an imperfect cone. Thus these are well formed to cut

comb, knead wax, and perform their various functions. Their eyes (Fig.

5) are like those of the queen, while their wings, like those of the

drones, attain the end of the body. These organs (Fig. 3), as in all

insects with rapid flight, are slim and strong, and, by their more or

less rapid vibrations, give the variety of tone which characterizes

their hum. Thus we have the rapid movements and high pitch of anger,

and the slow motion and mellow note of content and joy.

[Illustration: Fig. 22.

_Part of Posterior Leg of Worker, outside, much magnified._

_t_--Tibia.

_b_--Rim of hairs.

_p_--Pollen basket.

_t s_--Joint of tarsi,

_c_--Claws.

]

On the outside of the posterior tibia and basal tarsus is a cavity,

made more deep by its rim of hairs, known as the pollen basket (Fig.

22, _p_). In these pollen baskets is compacted the pollen, which is

gathered by the mouth organs, and carried back by the four anterior

legs. Opposite the pollen baskets are regular rows of golden hairs

(Fig. 23, _e_), which probably aid in storing and compacting the pollen

balls.

On the anterior legs of the workers, between the femur and tibia, is a

curious notch (Fig. 24, _C_), covered by a spur (Fig. 24, _B_). For

several years this has caused speculation among my students, and has

attracted the attention of observing apiarists. Some have supposed that

it aided bees in reaching deeper down into tubular flowers, others that

it was used in scraping off pollen, and still others that it enabled

bees to hold on when clustering. The first two functions may belong to

this, though other honey and pollen-gathering bees do not possess it.

The latter function is performed by the claws at the end of the tarsi.

[Illustration: Fig. 23.

_Part of Worker's Posterior Leg, inside, much magnified._

_e_--Rows of hairs.

_t_--Tibia.

_c_--Claws.

]

[Illustration: Fig. 24.

_Anterior Leg of Worker, magnified._]

[Illustration: Fig. 25.

_Worker's Sting, magnified._

_a_--Tube.

_b b_--Barbed spears drawn out of tube and turned back,

_c_--Poison sack.

_d_--Muscles.

]

The workers, too, possess an organ of defense (Fig. 25), which they

are quick to use if occasion requires. This is not curved as in the

queen, but straight. The gland which secretes the poison is double,

and the sack (Fig. 25, _c_), in which it is stored, is as large as

a flax-seed. The sting proper, is a triple organ, consisting of

three sharp spears, very smooth and of exquisite polish. The most

highly-wrought steel instruments, under a high magnifier, look rough

and unfinished, while the parts of the sting show no such inequalities.

One of these spears (Fig. 25, _a_) is canaliculate--that is, it forms

an imperfect tube--and in this canal work the other two (Fig. 25, _b,

b_), which fill the vacant space, and thus the three make a complete

tube, and through this tube, which connects with the poison sack,

passes the poison. The slender spears which work in the tube are

marvelously sharp, and project beyond it when used, and are worked

alternately by small but powerful muscles (Fig. 25, _d_), so they may

pass through buckskin, or even the thick scarf-skin of the hand. These

are also barbed at the end with teeth, seven of which are prominent,

which extend out and back like the barb of a fish-hook. Hence the

sting cannot be withdrawn, if it penetrates any firm substance, and

so when used, it is drawn from the bee, and carries with it a portion

of the alimentary canal, thus costing the poor bee its life. Darwin

suggests that bees and wasps were developed from the saw-flies, and

that the barbs on the sting are the old-time saws, transformed into the

spear-like barbs. He does not explain why these are so much shorter

and more obscure in the queen, and in other bees and wasps. The

honey-stomach or crop in the workers (Fig. 9, _o_) is well developed,

though no larger than those in the drones. Whether it is more complex

in structure, I do not know.

The workers hatch from an impregnated egg, which can only come from a

queen that has met a drone, and is always laid in the small, horizontal

cell. These eggs are in no wise different, so far as we can see, from

those which are laid in the drone or queen-cells. All are cylindrical

and slightly curved (Fig. 26, _b, c_) and are fastened by one end to

the bottom of the cell, and a little to one side of the centre. As

already shown, these are voluntarily fertilized by the queen as she

extrudes them, preparatory to fastening them in the cells. These eggs,

though so small--one-sixteenth of an inch long--may be easily seen by

holding the comb so that the light will shine into the cells. With

experience, they are detected almost at once, but I have often found

it quite difficult to make the novice see them, though very plainly

visible to my experienced eye.

[Illustration: Fig. 26.

_Egg and Brood._

_b_ and _c_--Eggs.

_d, e, f_ and _g_--Various sizes of larvæ.

_h_--Pupa.

_i_--Pupa of queen, in queen-cell.

_k, k_--Caps.

]

The egg hatches in three days. The larva (Fig. 26, _d, e, f, g_),

incorrectly called grub, maggot--and even caterpillar, by Hunter--is

white, footless, and lies coiled up in the cell till near maturity. It

is fed a whitish fluid, though this seems to be given grudgingly, as

it never seems to have more than it wishes to eat, so it is fed quite

frequently by the mature workers. It would seem that the workers fear

an excessive development, which, as we have seen, is most mischievous

and ruinous, and work to prevent the same, by a mean and meager diet.

The food is composed of pollen and honey. Certainly of pollen, for,

as I have repeatedly proved, without pollen, no brood will be reared.

Probably some honey is incorporated, as sugar is an essential in the

nutrition of all animals, and we could hardly account for the excessive

amount of honey consumed, while breeding, by the extra amount consumed

by the bees, consequent upon the added exercise required in caring

for the brood. M. Quinby, Doolittle, and others, say water is also an

element of this food. But bees often breed very rapidly when they do

not leave the hive at all, and so water, other than that contained in

the honey, etc., cannot be added. This makes it a question if water is

ever added. The time when bees seem to need water, and so repair to the

rill and the pond, is during the heat of summer, when they are most

busy. May this not be quaffed to slake their own thirst?

In six days the cell is capped over by the worker-bees. This cap is

composed of pollen and wax, so it is darker, more porous, and more

easily broken than the caps of the honey-cells; it is also more convex

(Fig. 26, _k_). The larva, now full grown, having lapped up all the

food placed before it, surrounds itself with a silken cocoon, so

excessively thin that it requires a great number to appreciably reduce

the size of the cells. These always remain in the cell, after the

bees, escape, and give to old comb its dark color and great strength.

Yet they are so thin, that cells used even for a dozen years, seem to

serve as well for brood as when first used. In three days the insect

assumes the pupa state (Fig. 26, _h_). In all insects the spinning of

the cocoon seems an exhaustive process, for so far as I have observed,

and that is quite at length, this act is succeeded by a variable period

of repose. The pupa is also called a nymph. By cutting open cells it is

easy to determine just the date of forming the cocoon, and of changing

to the pupa state. The pupa looks like the mature bee with all its

appendages bound close about it, though the color is still whitish:

In twenty-one days the bee emerges from the cell. The old writers were

quite mistaken in thinking that the advent of these was an occasion

of joy and excitement among the bees. All apiarists have noticed how

utterly unmoved the bees are, as they push over and crowd by these

new-comers in the most heedless and discourteous manner imaginable.

Wildman tells of seeing the workers gathering pollen and honey the same

day that they came forth from the cells. This idea is quickly disproved

if we Italianize black-bees. We know that for some days these young

bees do not leave the hive at all, except in case of swarming, when

bees even too young to fly will essay to go with the crowd. These

young bees, like the young drones and queens, are much lighter for the

first few days.

The worker-bees never attain a great age. Those reared in autumn may

live for eight or nine months, and if in queenless stocks, where little

labor is performed, even longer; while those reared in spring will wear

out in three, and when most busy, will often die in from thirty to

forty-five days. None of these bees survive the year through, so there

is a limit to the number which may exist in a colony. As a good queen

will lay, when in her best estate, three thousand eggs daily, and as

the workers live from one to three months, it might seem that forty

thousand was too small a figure for the number of workers. Without

doubt a greater number is possible. That it is rare is not surprising,

when we remember the numerous accidents and vicissitudes that must ever

attend the individuals of these populous communities.

The function of the worker-bees is to do all the manual labor of the

hives. They secrete the wax, which forms in small pellets (Fig. 27,

_a, a_) under the over-lapping rings under the abdomen. I have found

these wax-scales on both old and young. According to Fritz Müller, the

admirable German observer, so long a traveler in South America, the

bees of the genus melipona secrete the wax on the back.

The young bees build the comb, ventilate the hive, feed the larvæ and

cap the cells. The older bees--for, as readily seen in Italianizing,

the young bees do not go forth for the first one or two weeks--gather

the honey, collect the pollen, or bee-bread, as it is generally called,

bring in the propolis or bee glue, which is used to close openings, and

as a cement, supply the hive with water(?), defend the hive from all

improper intrusion, destroy drones when their day of grace is past,

kill and arrange for replacing worthless queens, destroy inchoate

queens, drones, or even workers, if circumstances demand it, and lead

forth a portion of the bees when the conditions impel them to swarm.

When there are no young bees, the old bees will act as house-keepers

and nurses, which they otherwise refuse to do. The young bees, on the

other hand, will not go forth to glean, even though there be no old

bees to do this necessary part of bee-duties. An indirect function of

all the bees is to supply animal heat, as the very life of the bees

require that the temperature inside the hive be maintained at a rate

considerably above freezing. In the chemical processes attendant upon

nutrition, much heat is generated, which, as first shown by Newport,

may be considerably augmented at the pleasure of the bees, by forced

respiration. The bees, too, by a rapid vibration of their wings, have

the power to ventilate their hives, and thus reduce the temperature,

when the weather is hot. Thus they moderate the heat of summer, and

temper the cold of winter.

[Illustration: _Under Surface of Bee, showing Wax between Segments._]