the Butterfly, "and am convinced that a _fine lady_ will believe any
thing, and will be pleased with the greatest nonsense, if said to her
by way of compliment; though I have visited but one house to-day, and
that was with one of my old acquaintance, with whom I flew about till
we chaced each other into a spacious drawing-room, in which sat a young
lady, who was endeavouring to lay the imitation of flowers upon a small
table; I believe they call it _painting_, and it was nearly finished; a
gentleman sat by her, and seemed to admire every stroke of her pencil,
though for my part I could not see any thing so very admirable in it;
the colours, to my eye, were put on very roughly, and I could not have
thought he would have paid so ill a compliment to her understanding, as
to suppose she would have believed him, when on our settling on them
after we had sported round the room, he declared that we took them for
natural flowers."
[Illustration]
"And did she believe him?" asked the Bee.
"She smiled," returned the Butterfly, "and seemed very much pleased;
and it is certain that she did not contradict him, though she soon
drove us off again, fearing, I suppose, that we should discover the
deception; but we had done that long before, and only fixt ourselves
there because it was the nearest place to rest on. After this we flew
out, and met with other companions, and I don't know how it was, but
the day seemed gone before we were aware; however, we have enjoyed
ourselves without interruption, and _you_, I hope, are better able
to pursue what affords you pleasure, than when I left you in the
morning?"
"I am recovering very fast," returned the Bee, "and it is quite
necessary I should, for I believe a wonderful change is soon to take
place in my circumstances, and you must not be surprised if you should
not see me in this neighbourhood much longer."
"What do you mean?" enquired the Butterfly, half alarmed, though he
knew not from what cause; "you are not going to hide yourself from me,
are you?"
"No," returned the Bee; "_our_ movements cannot be hid, we shall make
noise enough about it, but I am not at liberty to disclose the secrets
of the hive; to-morrow, perhaps, if you keep a good look-out, and the
weather is fine, you may see what will unravel this mystery; in the
meanwhile assure yourself of the continuance of my friendship, and do
not think, after the attention I experienced from you last night, and
on a former occasion, I can forget you."
With this assurance the Butterfly suffered his friend to depart without
making any farther enquiry, and sheltering himself for the night under
a large holly-hock, resolved not to let the sun arise without his
awaking to observe the movements of the Bee, and his companions; and,
if possible, to find out the meaning of what he had heard.
CHAP. VI.
"When nought but balm is breathing through the woods
"With yellow lustre, bright, that the new tribes
"Visit the spacious heavens, and look abroad
"On Nature's common, far as they can see,
"Or wing their range and pasture."
THOMPSON.
The next morning all was bustle and activity in the hive at a very
early hour, and the Butterfly also arose, and shook his wings,
determined to let nothing escape his observation which could discover
the occasion of it: but though there seemed much noise within, no
one came out; and, after waiting a great while, he began to think
that nothing particular was intended by what his friend had said, or
that some confusion among themselves prevented their putting it in
execution. He frisked about among the flowers, yet still contrived
to keep the hive in view; till at length he saw a Bee advance, whom,
from her majestic appearance, he concluded was the queen; a number of
attendants immediately followed her; and, among the rest, his friend.
She turned as if to take a last look at the home she was about to
leave for ever, and on seeing multitudes of its inhabitants flocking
out, as fast as the narrow entrance would allow, appeared to glory in
the exulting throng; till raising her wings she led the way to seek
some other habitation. Immediately all the train followed her example,
and the air was filled with the numerous retinue; who, by the noise
they made, appeared to vie with each other in paying her respect. All
were earnest in their endeavours to get near her, and to the eye of
the Butterfly, who followed at an humble distance, they appeared a
formidable phalanx; eager not only to prevent the approach of danger,
but that even the eye of a stranger should be fixt upon her. Presently
a crowd of people, from the neighbouring houses, came running towards
them, with pot-lids in their hands, with which, as the whole body
were slowly hovering round the trunk of an old tree, they endeavoured
to drown their humming noise with a much louder one of their own;
and this, from what they said, and their calling for the hive, the
Butterfly learnt was to make them sooner settle. All this time it
would have been difficult to have said who watched their motions most
attentively, the men and women, or the Butterfly. As soon as her
officious attendants would give her an opportunity, her majesty fixt
her feet upon a projecting branch, and happy were those who could cling
the closest to her. All were now as desirous of fixing with her, as
before they were of flying; and when they could no longer see or touch
this sole object of their attention, they were still eager to press,
and hang upon each other, as if pleased to touch but the back of a bee,
who perhaps touched another that had hold of their Queen.
The noise now ceased, and the bees were suffered to hang, unmolested,
for nearly an hour, in a large round cluster; still and motionless, as
if no life or power was in them. Their proceedings were so entirely new
to the Butterfly, that, had not his friend been amongst them, he should
have wished to see the end; but he saw a man approach, whose face and
arms were entirely covered, and placing a new hive under them, he shook
the branch till the whole united body fell into it. A cloth was then
thrown over them, and he bore it away in triumph.
"And will they suffer themselves to be thus taken?" thought his
attentive observer, as he eagerly extended his wings to follow the man;
"will they be content to remain in that desolate habitation without a
cell, or any provision in it? no, no; the man will soon perceive his
mistake," continued he, as he saw him place it on a block, which had
been before prepared for it, "as soon as they can get their liberty,
they will return from whence they came." However, it was himself, and
not the man, who was mistaken; on the whole, the Bees liked their new
abode very well; and it was not till the next day that he saw any of
its inhabitants coming out in search of food; when he met his friend,
who asked him "if he did not think he had given him notice of something
worth seeing?"
"I think I see that you have changed for the worse," returned the
Butterfly; "you have left a full hive with comfortable cells, and
plenty of food, for one which is destitute of both!"
"We shall soon get this as well stocked as the other," replied the Bee;
"but did you not see our Queen? a sight of her is seldom had; were you
not charmed with her majestic appearance?"
"Upon my word, no," said the Butterfly with a smile; "but you must
recollect that I am not one of her numerous progeny; and to the eye of
a Butterfly she is no more than another of her species; but why did
you leave your home? is it grown old, and crazy; or does it let the
rain in?"
"I fancy we understand building better than for that to be the
case," answered the Bee, somewhat offended; "but we were too full;
we encreased so fast that there was not room for us all in one hive.
We have therefore chosen another queen, in whom, by the bye, I am
astonished that you see nothing to admire; and we young ones are come
forth with her, to form another settlement. Happy shall we be to
contribute to her tranquillity and comfort, and to supply her every
want; while she is kind enough to permit us to call her ours, for
the present; therefore, you must not expect to see me one moment at
leisure; till we have, in some degree, given our abode the appearance
of an habitation, we cannot be comfortable; we have already formed
a cell for our beloved Queen, and a few others for her principal
attendants; among which number, I am proud to say, I am; you must
excuse me if I now leave you abruptly, as I am on the search for
something nice for her to eat."
"Proud, indeed," thought the Butterfly, as he saw his friend hastily
depart. "Why, I am hardly spoken to now this new queen is come in the
way. Well," continued he, "I am glad _we_ have no sovereign, in whose
service we might spend our lives. Our time is our own, and we enjoy it
as we like," added he, clapping his wings, and flying off in pursuit of
some companion as thoughtless as himself. The next morning he returned
very early to the hive in hopes of seeing his old friend, though he
did not suppose he would allow him his company for more than a minute.
"We can converse together as we fly," said the Bee, who advanced to
meet him, "but I must fetch some honey for her majesty's breakfast;
won't you accompany me? we still go on building very fast, and wax is
brought in great abundance for that purpose."
"While you are thus employed, I do not expect to have much of your
company," said the Butterfly, "and have therefore made an agreement
with some of my old acquaintance to take an excursion into the country,
and enjoy ourselves there for a few days. The summer is passing quickly
away, and our lives, supposing no accident cuts us off, must end with
it; we must, therefore, frisk while we may."
"Certainly," replied the Bee, "_you_ were made for that purpose, and
by the time you return I shall probably be more at liberty; we have a
great deal to do, but there is likewise a number of hands, all able and
willing to assist;" and directing his friend to find out the hive when
he came back, he wished him much pleasure, and thus they parted for a
short time, the one to play, and the other to work, though both equally
pleased with the pursuit they were about to follow.
The Butterfly soon after joined his gayer friends, and sailing high in
air, they winged their way, to "range the forest's green retreat."
"These thro' the tangled wood-walks play,
"Where no rude urchin paces near,
"Where sparely peeps the sultry day,
"And light dews freshen all the air."
Thus sported the happy party, uninterruptedly enjoying the live-long
day, and resting at night within "the lily's bell!" They skimmed the
purple heath, visited the rivers' brink, and each day brought some new
pleasure in their view, till at length the weather began to change,
a cold wind blew, and there was every appearance of an approaching
tempest; and now it was that the Butterfly began to think of his friend
the Bee, and of his warm comfortable hive; though he knew he could
not be admitted there, he felt that it must be very pleasant to have
such an asylum to retreat to. Every one of his fluttering companions
were now flying away, each desirous of finding a place of safety for
himself, and _he_ still bent upon returning to his more _steady_
friend, endeavoured to gain the way which led to his abode, though
the wind was now so powerful that he could scarcely bear against it,
or see the way he was taking. At this moment a stage-coach passed him,
and though he did not know it would convey him from the place he was
then in, he was glad to take the shelter it afforded, and flying in at
one of the open windows he soon found a resting-place. After recovering
from the disorder and confusion the rough wind had put him into, he
had time to examine where he was, and noticed two young ladies, and an
officer very gayly drest, apparently confined within this very small
space.
"What's this?" exclaimed the gentleman; "a Butterfly! we want no such
intruders here; ladies, are you alarmed? is the creature disagreeable?"
"Let the poor thing alone," said an elderly man, whom the Butterfly
had not observed before, "it's as free to live as you are; 'tis true
we have _frivolity_ enough in our cargo, but the horses won't feel this
addition to it."
"It has taken shelter from the storm," said one of the ladies, not at
all regarding what he said; "and if it does not settle on _me_ it is
welcome to remain." The coachman now got off his box, and opening the
door, begged to know if there was room for a young woman, who was on
the outside.
"It rains hard," said he, "and she will be wet to the skin if she stays
there." Instead of answering his enquiry the officer, in a low voice,
replied thus: "I say, who is this old fellow in the corner? any one of
consequence? hey?"
"Oh bless you, no Sir, _he_ won't mind her coming in, if you don't."
"Mind her coming? no, I suppose not," replied he, "but the ladies are
to be consulted; what say you ladies? have you any objection?" They
looked at each other as if hesitating for an answer, which the old
gentleman observed, and immediately offered to get out, and let her
have his place; at this the whole party seemed rather ashamed, and one
of the ladies replied, "Oh dear no! we only thought her clothes might
be wet."
"And spoil yours, I suppose?" returned the old gentleman rather
roughly, "but I dare say you will have no objection to this young
officer's sitting between you, and then she can take his place, and you
will be in no danger."
This proposal was readily acceded to, and the young woman came in with
many thanks, while the gallant gentleman seated between the two ladies
declared, that "if he did not incommode them he was the happiest man
alive, and only wished that they were going to travel hundreds of miles
together."
"An enviable situation truly," said the old man, with an air of
contempt, and folding his arms, as if preparing to sleep; "I," said one
of the ladies, "shall soon be at my journey's end," naming the place at
which she was to be set down; "and I," replied the other, "am to go but
one mile further."
"Oh! Heavens! and what shall I do then?" returned their admiring beau,
"shut up in this place by myself; I shall certainly hang myself if
I have an opportunity! what lose such charming companions so soon?"
At this the ladies both smiled, and seeing such sort of conversation
pleased, he plied them with it very freely, while the old man slept,
or pretended so to do, and the young women looked rather inclined to
blush for those of her sex who could receive such flattery.
When one of the ladies left the coach, the other seemed fearful that
their complimenting admirer would hurt himself, in straining his neck
to look after her, as she ran through the rain to a house which stood
at a little distance from the road. On drawing his head in again,
he praised her beauty exceedingly, till fearing he should carry his
encomiums too high, so as to offend the other, whose countenance
already bespoke an approaching gloom; he dissipated the very appearance
of it in a moment, by "begging to know if they were not sisters, their
likeness to each other was so great?" This had the desired effect,
for though she assured him they were not, yet if her companion was
handsome, and they were alike, she must be so likewise. To be handsome
is as much as some people desire, thought the Butterfly, on observing
her face resume a smile, "no wonder that we Butterflies should wish
it." After some more conversation equally foolish, she also arrived at
the place of her destination, and the gentleman, not at all regarding
his other companions, again deplored the melancholy situation he should
be left in.
As soon as the lady was gone, the old gentleman thus addressed him,
"Young man, I think you have shown your folly whilst you have been
attempting to hoax those women; _that's_ the word, is it not?"
"Poor country girls!" replied the officer, laughing, "how pleased they
were; they believed every word I said; they look as if they had never
been beyond their own country town, and yet I made one of them think
that I supposed she had lived in London all her life."
"And where have you lived?" replied the old man, "to learn that there
is any wit in making people appear more ridiculous than they really
are?"
"Oh," said the other, "they'll go home and talk of me for days to come;
I should not wonder if they expected to see me returning in search
of them within a short time, as not being able to live out of their
company." The old gentleman then turned to the young woman, who had
sat a silent spectator like the Butterfly, and bade her take a lesson
from what she had seen and heard, not to believe what was said to
her; "_you_ may perhaps one day or other meet with an idle fellow,"
continued he "who may think proper to amuse himself by talking thus,
but do not you pay so ill a compliment to your own understanding, as to
sit with a simper on your countenance at whatever nonsense he may chuse
to utter."
The young woman expressed her thanks, while the disconsolate beau
sat with his head half out of the window, as if wishing to avoid any
farther conversation.
The weather seemed now cleared away, the wind and the rain had ceased,
and the Butterfly began to prepare for flight. On seeing this the old
gentleman said, "Ah, go, poor harmless creature, I am glad for your
sake, and this young woman's, that I have travelled this way to-day,
or neither of you would have been admitted."
Our adventurer would have thanked him if he could, and leaving the
window had the pleasure of seeing he was very near the place he wished
to be in; he saw some hives at a distance, and among them was his
friend's abode, who, on seeing his approach, came to meet him, and to
whom the Butterfly, after they had expressed their pleasure at again
being together, related the adventures he had met with, particularly
the way in which he had been brought back, and many were the moralizing
remarks occasioned by the recital of what had passed during his ride.
"The race of human beings must certainly be degenerated," observed the
Bee, "since all other creatures were first put under their subjection,
and in no other way can I account for the superior conduct, and in
many respects the superior wisdom also, of those whom they think so
much below them."
The Butterfly then asked in what state of forwardness the new hive was
in, and was happy to learn, that during his absence they had nearly
completed the building within it, and that his friend was now ready to
accompany him on his flights as usual.
CHAP. VII.
"Not all that tempts your wandering eyes,
"And heedless hearts, is lawful prize,
"Nor all that glitters gold."
GRAY.
In the course of the next day the two friends met again, and while the
Bee did not forget the more important work of gathering food for the
approaching winter, he did not so earnestly pursue it as to make him
unmindful of other things.
"See here," said he to the Butterfly, as they flew towards a house
whose open windows seemed to invite their entrance; "let us go in, I
think we shall meet with something worth our notice?" The Butterfly
hastened on, but no sooner had he reached the window than turning back,
he winged his flight another way, with much greater speed, calling to
his friend to follow him.
"What have you seen that has so alarmed you?" enquired the Bee, as he
hurried after him, "what is in that house so very frightful?"
"It belongs to a _naturalist_," replied the Butterfly, "and don't you
know what detestable creatures these are? had he seen me I should have
lost my life in the cruelest manner."
"A naturalist!" returned the Bee, "I never heard of one, what does he
do?"
"Do?" replied the trembling Butterfly, "why, he would tear me limb from
joint if I was in his power, and yet endeavour to preserve my life only
to try how much he could make me suffer; did you not see how many of my
species were pinned up against the walls of his room, whose peculiar
form or colour had attracted his attention? he thinks nothing of taking
the life of any thing he admires. Oh! it turns me sick to think of it;
had I flown one inch farther I might have been thus impaled, and _you_
also; no doubt you would not have escaped his observation, and for the
sake of your sting, or examining what you carry your honey in, you
would have been quickly dispatched; various are the instruments he has
got about him, and numberless insects does he daily destroy."
"These are detestable creatures indeed," answered the Bee; "what can't
they be satisfied with viewing our forms as we pass along, but must
they pull us to pieces, by way of admiration? I fancy when they have
taken the most accurate survey, they could not make either a Bee, or
a Butterfly; it is a pity therefore that they should destroy that life
which they can never give. I declare the more I see of these human
beings, and think of their cruelty, as well as absurdities, it makes me
almost determine to quit the haunts of men, and if it ever should be my
lot again to seek another habitation, I would use all my influence with
my fellow Bees in order to remove to some wild wood where they might
never find us."
"You would be perfectly right," returned the Butterfly; "as for us, if
we escape them one summer, we willingly resign our lives at the end of
it, and led by instinct seek a place in which we die unlamented, and
soon forgotten; but this is not the case with _you_; while you live you
are useful, and at your death a whole society feels your loss; but
look," continued he, pointing towards a bottle that hung tied to the
branch of a fruit-tree, in which were several wasps decoyed thither by
the liquid it contained, and dying in the sweets they sought, "there is
another instance of their malice, don't you see those poor creatures?"
"Oh! yes," returned the Bee, "and though I am no friend to wasps, who
are often wishing to share the fruits of our labour, without having any
right to them; and in many things are striving to imitate us, though
I believe their chief aim is to do mischief, yet I cannot justify men
who use such _mean arts_ to entrap them to their destruction; but
what is that I see in yonder window?" continued he with a hurried
air, "something that more particularly demands my attention, a Bee in
distress; and hark, he calls to me for assistance;" so saying, without
waiting for the Butterfly to accompany him, he flew towards the place,
where was a Bee nearly drowning in a pot of honey. "And one of my own
hive too!" exclaimed he, as he drew nearer; "my dear brother, how came
you in such a situation?"
"Surely we are to see nothing but shocking sights to-day," observed
the compassionate Butterfly, who had hastily followed his friend, half
afraid that something still more terrible had happened, "but," said he,
on seeing the struggling captive, "he will not die; 'tis certain he can
keep his head above the edge till you have procured more assistance; I
fear I am not strong enough to help to pull him out."
While he was speaking, his companion had flown to the hive, and
with incredible swiftness returned with more of the community, who
altogether lent their aid, and after much toil and pains extricated the
poor exhausted Bee from the ill effects of seeking too large a share of
those sweets which only proved so, when moderately enjoyed, 'safe in
themselves but dangerous in the excess.'
"I only rested on the edge of the pan," said he, as soon as he could
speak, "and after an unsuccessful flight was glad to see a store of
that which I had been so long searching for in vain; I thought I would
just take a sip or two, and perhaps bring home a little of it to the
hive."
On hearing this one of the oldest of the throng thus addressed him:
"Know, my brother, that what we make ourselves is only welcome there,
and that food for which we labour hardest, is the sweetest to the
palate of every industrious Bee; idle drones and wandering wasps may
sip the honey which others have prepared, but let the danger you have
escaped to-day teach you to use the powers nature has given you, and
taste the sweets of your own procuring rather than that of others."