thanking him for his attention, promised to join him in the morning.
The Bee then returned to his companions, and the Butterfly retired to
the place which had been pointed out to him, and from whence he could
see the entrance of the hive, and watch the coming of his friend when
they were next to meet.
I shall now proceed to acquaint my reader with the future travels of
our two friends, and without attending to the minute occurrences of
each day, enter at once upon those events which more particularly
belong to my design. As soon as the sun was sufficiently above the
earth, the inhabitants of the hive hastened forth, eager to pursue
their daily task--
"Around, athwart,
"Thro' the soft air the busy nations fly."
And among the first came our young adventurer, whom the Butterfly
immediately prepared to accompany; though till he saw him a little
separated from the others, he did not presume to approach. "How do
you do, my friend?" said the Bee, as soon as he drew near; "are you
inclined for a long flight to-day? I have now a double motive to work
hard, having a wish to make up for my lost time, as well as to shew my
sense of gratitude for the reception I have met with from the friends I
am returned to."
"I am willing to accompany you," replied the Butterfly, "and am glad
to see you in such spirits; but you are already eyeing some of those
beautiful flowers, and while you are engaged with them I will visit the
nearest cottage, and return before you have finished your task."
"That's right," replied the Bee, "and tell me if you find the
inhabitants as well, or as busily employed, as I am going to be."
The Butterfly departed, and on entering the window of the humble
dwelling, he perceived a woman sweeping out the lower room, "which
served them for parlour, kitchen, and hall," and preparing the
breakfast; three or four children were entrusted to the care of another
somewhat older than themselves, and who was endeavouring to keep the
little ones from entering, and interrupting their mother. The Butterfly
was unnoticed by the woman, but no sooner did the children see it, who
(like all others, wanting what is denied them,) were peeping in at the
door and enquiring when they might come in, than a little boy begged
to enter, promising to catch it in a minute, and his entreaties at
last prevailed, though he did not find it quite so easy to take the
nimble creature as he had fancied. He had again and again to watch its
settling, and to experience disappointment in his endeavour to secure
it; while the rest of the little ones were at the door eagerly looking
on, and the mother sometimes fretting, and sometimes laughing at his
fruitless efforts; when all at once the eldest girl gave notice of her
father's approach to breakfast.
[Illustration]
No sooner was this intelligence heard, than the Butterfly was suffered
to rest in quiet; the mother declared that "nothing was ready;" she
scolded the child and blamed herself for being so foolish as to be
stopped in the middle of her work by the chacing of a Butterfly, and
before any thing was in proper order the _master_ entered, who by
his rough voice and peremptory manner seemed determined to keep up the
authority of that title. While he was grumbling at not finding his
breakfast ready, and his children standing silent around the table, the
Butterfly, happy to escape, extended his wings, and returned to his
companion, whom he found still employed at his accustomed task.
"Well, what discoveries have you made," enquired the Bee, "have you
seen any one so busy as me?"
"_One_ was," replied the Butterfly, laughing, "till I put an end to
her work; a little humoured brat of a boy was suffered to enter into
the midst of it, and hunt me from one side of the room to the other,
and this foolish pursuant took the attention of the woman, who stood
with the broom in her hand, admiring the dexterity of her aukward
cub, I suppose, till the approach of the father was announced; then
the scene was entirely changed, the hunt was given over, and she was
cross with herself and every one else because she had been interrupted,
which after all was her own fault; the man came in still more out of
humour, and thus the house which at your first entrance you might have
imagined the abode of peace and domestic comfort, was made directly
otherwise; and _my harmless_ visit, I dare say, they would say was the
cause of it; when to a reasonable observer it would be plain that the
whole of his disturbance arose from the wayward fancy of the child, the
indulgence of the mother, and the ill temper of the father: however,
such is my happy lot, having wings, I could fly away from all their
troubles, but those are to be pitied who cannot escape them."
"During your absence," said the Bee, "I have seen two friends in this
garden, who appeared so happy in the society of each other that I am
anxious to see more of them, such friendship being rather rare among
the human race, and as soon as I have carried home this load of honey,
I intend to visit the house I saw them enter."
"Do, do," replied the Butterfly, pleased to find his friend could
attend to any thing besides his work, "and while you are thus engaged,
I will amuse myself with an old acquaintance or two whom I see yonder."
With these words they parted for a little while, promising to meet
again in the same place, and to which the Bee returned long before
the fluttering Butterfly, who had flown to a neighbouring field,
and there among the daisies and king-cups with which the ground was
nearly covered, he continued with his former associates nearly the
whole morning, idly chacing each other in airy rounds till he had
almost forgot the engagement he had made, and was still less inclined
to regret his living an idle life. "I am not born to work," said he,
"and if the place I fill in the world is not of such importance as my
friend's, as a Butterfly I have an equal right to live, and to follow
my own inclination;" he therefore returned to meet him without an
apology for being behind the time, and on finding him busily employed,
and nearly ready to take home another load, "what," said he, "you could
not leave your favorite work to make your intended visit? surely you
are too intent in gathering that food which I fear you will never be
allowed to enjoy?"
"You are mistaken," replied the Bee, "I have been, and seen the two
ladies, but they are no longer friends." Oh what fickle creatures these
men and women are! young and old, they are all changeable alike. One
was sitting at an open window, and the other walking up and down the
room apparently much distressed; "what not one word?" said she to the
other; "I did not mean to offend you."
No answer was returned, and she continued to express her sorrow, which
was received with the utmost indifference; at length she made another
attempt, and offering her hand to her offended friend, she said, "Come,
Charlotte, will you not be reconciled?"
This also was equally disregarded, and the feelings of the poor
offender seemed entirely altered; she no longer solicited forgiveness,
but left the room, saying, "It is not necessary for me to acknowledge
more; you do not treat me like a friend; talk no more of your regard
for me."
As soon as she was gone the other began singing, as loudly as she could
raise her voice, though the words she uttered now, so far from being in
unison with her mind, as expressed in her countenance, that I could not
help smiling; they were descriptive of content and self-satisfaction,
neither of which I think _she_ could at that time feel.
On leaving her, and entering another window, I was sorry to see the one
I had been interested for in earnest conversation with a third person,
who, pitying her dejected and melancholy appearance, asked if she might
not attribute it to the ill humour of her friend, and while her mind
was thus hurt with the treatment she had received, drew from her a
complaint which perhaps she would not have made at any other time. "She
does not deserve your regard," said the stranger, "and you give up too
much to her;--if you continue to do so, she will by and bye expect you
to say or do nothing but as she directs; and her friendship for you can
never be real if she requires such subjection."
"These are very odd things," observed the Butterfly; "we poor
insignificant creatures never have any thing of this sort; if we
associate together, we do not spend our time in complaining of each
other."
"I have not done with them yet," returned the Bee, "but mean to pay
them another visit, and I fancy shall see still more reason to conclude
that these wonderful creatures, whom the animal race hold in such
respect, are not so steady and constant in their conduct and pursuits
as either they, or we, the still meaner insect tribes, are, though I
must say those of the latter order are not in so much awe of them.
We do not fly from them if they come in our way, but in many things
consider them as subservient to us, and that which _they_ look upon as
exclusively their own, and which a cat or a dog would not venture to
touch, _we_ have most likely made many a meal from before it comes to
their table."
A few days after this, the Bee renewed his visit, as he had proposed,
and there was astonished to see the very same third person now engaged
with the other lady, and relating to her with many exaggerations all
that her offending friend had repeated to her, while smarting under the
effect of her ill humour, though all the pains she took to draw it out
of her, and the encouragement with which she listened to her complaint,
were entirely omitted in the recital. "Only think of this," said the
Butterfly, on hearing an account of his friend's second visit. "Is this
the use they make of the power of speech, and which they imagine sets
them so completely above the animals? surely they had better be without
it, than use it to such a purpose; but what will be the end of this?
will not the eyes of the two friends be opened, think you? and they
will leave the acquaintance of that mean incendiary, who, under such a
show of friendship, endeavours to widen the breach between them?"
"Perhaps not," replied the Bee. "Their conduct may yet want that
consistency; I hope they will be reconciled to each other, but I doubt
whether they will give up this perfidious acquaintance, though the more
their regard for each other increases, the more must their contempt
for her be increased. I question, also, if the tale _she_ has this day
told will not rankle in the breast of the hearer for many future years,
and whether there will ever again be that mutual confidence in the two
friends which once appeared."
The next house they saw, the Butterfly entered alone, as the Bee
observed some flowers at a distance which appeared more worthy of his
attention. While he was busily employed in extracting their sweets,
his friend returned laughing, "Oh!" said he, "I wish you had been with
me. Smile no more at the regard I shew to outward appearance; why
there is a young man who is storming and raging about the house,
because his neckcloths and shirts are not brought home so nicely as
he expected, and he is throwing them from one end of the room to the
other, while the poor woman, who has, perhaps, been working hard to
make them what they are, stands trembling before him, as if she had
committed the greatest trespass in the world. The beauty of my wings
if once destroyed, is lost for ever, but these evils, if they are any,
are soon remedied; and, at the next house," continued he, "is another
instance of the vanity of the sex; _there_ is a boy who has got a new
coat just brought home from the taylor's, and because the day is rather
lowering, and his father won't let him wear it out, he is determined
not to go out at all, and he is now sitting in his own room with the
coat on, though there is no one but himself to admire it. I have seen
females carry their fondness for dress as far as this," continued he,
"but I thought men and boys were above such vanity; I declare I am half
ashamed of them."
At this moment a heavy shower came on, and the Butterfly hastened to
the shelter of a large leaf on a cucumber bed, where also the Bee was
obliged to secure himself, nor could he take home the honey he had
gathered till the rain had ceased.
On his return, he found the Butterfly just ventured from his retreat,
and stretching his wings, he was enquiring of one of his own species,
"if their colours had received any injury?"
The Bee heard the enquiry, and though he believed his friend would
not have made it had he thought him within hearing, he was not now so
inclined to laugh at him as formerly on account of it, "for," said he,
"since I have heard such instances of vanity in a race so superior, I
can forgive it in a Butterfly."
On finding that the drops still continued on the flowers, so as to
prevent his gathering any thing from them, he determined to return to
the hive, and there assist in forming some cells with the wax he had
been busy in procuring, though the Butterfly was earnest in desiring
him to take an afternoon's flight with him, "and enjoy a little
pleasure."
The Bee smiled at what his friend called by that name; "my enjoyment
is to be usefully employed," said he, "and to receive my mother's
approbation; but as I know this is a pleasure _you_ cannot understand,
I would not wish to deprive you of what you can enjoy; go, therefore,
and take your fill of it while you may, and to-morrow perhaps we may
meet again."
His friend departed with this encouragement, yet not able to comprehend
why all creatures did not find a pleasure in the same thing, though
to the eye of reason such a distinction of enjoyments in the various
objects of creation, is an evident token of the Wisdom with which they
are formed.
CHAP. V.
"If chance a mouse came in her sight,
"She finely counterfeits a fright,
"So sweetly screams if it come near her,
"It ravishes all hearts to hear her."
SWIFT.
The next day the Bee had taken home two or three loads before his
friend made his appearance, who, when he came, expressed his surprise
at finding him where he was. "I have been in such a beautiful
conservatory," said he, "and surely I saw _you_ there, almost buried in
the heart of a flower; and so intent were you upon your labour, that
you would not even answer me when I called; there must certainly have
been something very attractive to have kept you there so long, but how
you got here before me is what I most wonder at."
"I don't understand you," returned the Bee, "I have been in no
conservatory, the utmost of my flights to-day have been from the hive
to this place."
"And have you _really_ been no where else?" said the Butterfly in
astonishment; "why I never saw anything so like you in my life; I
concluded that you were so buried in the flower that you did not hear
my call, or was unwilling to move, lest you should alarm some ladies
and gentlemen who were very near you."
"I think I can tell what has deceived you," returned the Bee, "you have
seen a Bee-Orchis, as they are called, a flower which bears both the
form and resemblance of _our_ species. And so you really took it for
_me_?"
"If it was _not_ yourself," replied the Butterfly, "and you wish to see
your _own_ likeness, pray come with me, and behold it; for never did I
see one Bee so like another, as that flower is like you."
"I have known many of our young ones who are not acquainted with
it," said the Bee, "so deceived by the resemblance, that if they
happen to meet with one, they pass it by, thinking, that one of their
fellow-laborers is engaged there already; but if you will shew me the
spot I will not be so put off."
So saying, he followed the Butterfly, who was immediately on the wing;
and soon arrived at a very large house, one end of which formed the
conservatory. The fragrancy of the flowers it contained, the great
variety of them, and those of the most delicate nature, made the Bee
clap his wings for joy.
"Why, my dear friend," said he, "you have brought me to a
treasure-house indeed; a store of sweets, I can hardly forbear
returning to call all my companions to share it with me; I am sure
there would be work enough for the whole hive were they here."
While he was thus expressing his delight, the Butterfly was searching
for the flower he had noticed before, hardly satisfied, till he had the
testimony of his own eye-sight in seeing them together, that his friend
had told him the truth; however, when he discovered it, and saw the Bee
still flying about in admiration, he was obliged to acknowledge he had
been wrong.
The Bee employed himself here for some hours, during which he had gone
and returned from the hive several times, bringing with him a few of
his companions, who were attracted by the account he gave of this
charming place; the Butterfly also met with much to amuse him, and
continued uninterruptedly to enjoy themselves, till, as the evening
advanced, they resolved to visit some other part of the house, and
the Butterfly led the way to the dining parlour, where some ladies
and gentlemen were sitting after dinner, with a variety of fruits and
wines before them. The attention of the Bee was immediately attracted
by a very fine peach one of the ladies had just taken on her plate, and
little thinking of the consequence of his temerity, he flew towards it:
the lady screamed, and pushed back her chair, while the company eagerly
enquired the cause.
"Oh, a Bee!" exclaimed she, "I am frightened to death if I see one."
"And I," said another, who sat opposite to her, "shall faint, if it
comes near _me_; I really cannot bear it in the room."
At this moment the Bee, as if desirous of seeing whether she spoke
truth or not, flew directly across the table, and alighted on her head.
"Oh where is it?" said she, jumping off her seat, "I am sure it is on
me! dear Mr. Wippersnap," addressing the gentleman who sat next her,
"for goodness sake take it off! what shall I do?"
While the other lady sat fanning to recover her alarm, and the rest of
the party with anxious looks watched the motions of the bold intruder,
the gentleman, proud of his superior courage, "begged them not to be
alarmed, for he would destroy it in a moment;" and giving it a gentle
touch to drive it from its present station, he began the attack with an
open knife he held in his hand, professing that he would cut it asunder
at one blow; his blows, however, were not so decisive, for though he
aimed several, the Bee contrived to escape them all.
At this one or two other gentlemen, with more regard to the imaginary
feelings of the ladies than to the reality of those belonging to the
Bee, raised the same weapons in their defence, but all their efforts
served only to exasperate the object of their rage, while the Butterfly
sat trembling under the most cruel apprehensions for his friend's
safety.
During this alarming battle the ladies were happy to leave the room;
and no sooner were they retired than the fight was over, the weapons
of war were laid aside, and the enraged Bee suffered to rest upon
the table, and recruit his strength: his fierce opponents declared
they were never so foiled before, till one, less courageous than the
rest, wisely, as he thought, turned an empty wine glass over him, and
thus was our unfortunate adventurer again in a close confinement. The
Butterfly was now alarmed for his friend from another cause, and feared
the want of air would be too much for him.
"Cruel monsters," said he to himself, as he observed the gentlemen draw
their chairs closer to the table, and filling their glasses appeared
determined to suffer no other interruption to their cheerfulness; "do
they call themselves humane, who can leave a poor creature in that
situation, and after they have cut and slashed at him in such a manner,
that if their dexterity had been equal to their will, they would not
have left a whole bone in his skin. Oh! that I had the sting of a
thousand Bees, I would use them all to revenge his cause."
With these words he fluttered round the table, and viewed his friend
(who lay motionless at the bottom of his transparent prison) on every
side; "he will certainly die," thought he, "if he is not dead already.
Oh my friend! would that I could release you! but the attempt would be
fruitless."
The gentlemen were too agreeably engaged to observe the anxious
Butterfly, who every time he saw them extend their hands towards the
place, hoped some little compassion had touched their breasts, and that
they were going to liberate his friend; but no such thing, the evening
closed in, and he was yet in confinement, till the tea being announced,
the gentlemen jumped up to attend the ladies, and soon after the
servants entering to take away the bottle and glasses, give the poor
prisoner an opportunity to escape. The window was still open, upon the
edge of which sat the expecting Butterfly, but it was some time before
the Bee, who had been insensible the greatest part of the time, could
so far recollect himself as to know where he was, or who was waiting
for him. On seeing him slowly crawling on the table, the Butterfly
concluded he was too much hurt to fly, and coming towards him, with the
utmost tenderness he said,
"Oh! my friend, are you not cruelly wounded?"
"Not so much as I expected," returned the Bee, greatly revived at the
sight of his old companion. "I am very stiff from the blows I have
received, but luckily my wings are not hurt; pray lead the way from
this detested spot, and I will follow with the greatest pleasure."
With this request the Butterfly gladly complied, rejoicing to hear his
friend speak so cheerfully, who was no sooner out of the house than he
begged to rest upon a neighbouring tree.
"You have been very roughly handled," said his friend, "by these
_superior_ sort of people; I had hoped better things of them, because
they are called so, but I do not find their hearts are better, or their
conduct towards us less reprehensible than those of a lower order; but
why did you not use your sting, my friend? I think it then would have
made even those courageous gentlemen sound a retreat."
"I am very careful of extending that," replied the Bee, "as it is very
seldom we can use it to any advantage without leaving it in the wound,
and that in general is fatal to us; a gentle touch is sufficient in
our defence, but _here_ it would have had no effect but to enrage
them still the more, and I must either have died by their hands, or
soon afterwards by losing it; but what a fuss the ladies made at my
approach, did they not? did you ever see any thing so foolish, as all
to run away from my presence? Why many of their fellow-creatures, whom
they judge inferior in education and ideas to themselves, would have
been ashamed to have acted so."
"If you are inclined to put them to flight again," said the Butterfly,
"I think I see the same party in the room above."
"No, I thank you," returned the Bee, "I must hasten to the hive as
fast as my bruises will let me; they will be quite alarmed at my being
out so late, or fancy that my old fondness for wandering is come on
again, and I should be sorry that should be their opinion; besides,"
continued he, shrugging his shoulders, "I have had enough of the
company of ladies and gentlemen for to-day, though no doubt I lost much
entertaining conversation during my captivity."
"I believe not," replied the Butterfly, "for my part I heard them say
very little else than "the bottle is with you Sir," and "let us have
another;" and "will you give us a toast, Sir?""
"And is it thus these men of _education_ converse together?" replied
the Bee; "I am astonished at it, but were we to sit and talk of it the
whole of the night we should not make them better; we will therefore go
home; I have only to say that I am glad I have escaped their malice,
and am obliged to you, my friend, for the affection which prompted
you to stay for me;" and now extending their wings they soon arrived
at the hive, which the Bee entered, and accounting for his late return
received the congratulations of all his companions on his safety.
The Butterfly found a resting-place near it, and the next day met his
friend with anxious enquiries of "how he found himself?" The Bee was
still stiff, and felt too much of the ill effects of his last visit to
wish to accompany him on another, at present, therefore he remained but
just without the hive, and left the Butterfly to make 'the voyage of
observation' by himself. In the evening, as they again met, he enquired
into the result of his rambles.