A _Bee-Master_.
There came a Thief into a _Bee-Garden_ in the Absence of the Master, and
Robb’d the Hives. The _Owner_ discover’d it upon his Return, and stood
Pausing a while to Bethink himself how This should come to pass. The
_Bees_ in this _Interim_, came Laden home out of the Fields from Feeding,
and Missing their Combs, they fell Powdering down in Swarms upon their
_Master_. Well (says he) you are a Company of Senseless and Ungrateful
Wretches, to let a Stranger go away Quietly that has Rifled ye, and to
bend All your Spite against your Master, that is at this Instant Beating
his Brains how he may Repair and Preserve ye.
The MORAL.
_’Tis the Course of the World for People to take their Friends for their
Foes, and to Use them accordingly._