CHAPTER VIII.
_About the bees._
It is well worth while to attend minutely to the business that is going on in the bee-hive. Nothing, in a great city, where we see houses, and streets, and manufactures, and a vast population, all busily engaged, can be more curious than what is to be witnessed in the city of the bees.
The queen is the mother of all the young bees, for she lays all the eggs from which young ones are hatched. When she wishes to lay the eggs, she goes to the cells which have been made by the workers, and having taken a peep into them, drops in her eggs, taking care to distribute them properly. It is said that a single queen will lay six thousand eggs in a single month, and sometimes one hundred thousand in a year!
The eggs are very small, of a bluish white color, and of a long, oval shape. They remain unchanged for four days and are then hatched. At first, the young bee is only a white worm or maggot, and may be seen floating at the bottom of the cell, in a whitish fluid, furnished by the nursing bees. It grows rapidly, and as it lengthens coils itself into a ring. It is then called a grub-worm, or larva.
The little worms are carefully attended by the nurses, and as soon as these approach and touch them, they open their minute jaws and receive the food. This consists of a nice kind of soft, sweet pap, formed by the farina of flowers, honey and water, carefully mixed, and partly digested in the stomachs of the nurses.
When Miss Betsey Piper had got to this point, Jack spoke as follows:
“That’s very queer, aunt Betsey, and very interesting; but don’t it remind you of the story about the old Dutch landlady, in the state of New York?”
“No,” said aunt Betsey.
“Why,” said Jack, “don’t you remember that Mr. Roley told us about it? He said that he was once travelling in the western part of the state of New York, when he came to a little brown tavern, kept by an old Dutch woman. It was evening, and he asked for supper. The old lady had very little in her house but bread and milk, and he concluded to have some of this. ‘How do you like it,’ said the landlady――‘mummed or crumbed?’ Now Mr. Roley didn’t know what _mummed_ was. So, out of curiosity, he told her he would have it mummed. Upon this, the landlady got a large bowl of milk, and several large slices of bread. Then, standing over the bowl, and taking a slice of bread, at each end, with her fingers, she began to bite off pieces, and, after a little chewing, dropped them into the milk. This was what she called _mummed_ bread and milk! I suppose she did it all for kindness, but Mr. Roley couldn’t eat a bit of it.”
“Well,” said aunt Betsey, “don’t you think the little bee-worms like the sweet pap that is made for them?”
“Oh, very likely they do,” said Jack, “for they don’t know how it is made; besides, I have seen little infants eat things that had been chewed for them by the nurses; and it seems that the infant bees are treated in the same way. Really, the bees seem to be very rational kind of creatures. But what makes me wonder very much, is how they should know anything without any books, or instruction.”
“That is indeed very wonderful,” said aunt Betsey, “and we can only explain it by referring it to that admirable teaching of their Creator, called instinct.” The dialogue here ceased, and the narrator went on.
When the little worms are about four or five days old, and have grown so large and fat as to fill their cells, the nurses seal them up with a brown cover of a conical form. No sooner does the larva find himself shut in, than he begins to work up and down, and to wind around himself fine silky threads, which he draws in two strands from the middle part of his under lip. Round and round he goes, for he knows what is to be done; nor does he stop till he has woven about himself a thin pod or pellicle, just the size of the cell. In this condition, the creature is called a _nymph_ or _pupa_.
The working bee is about thirty-six hours in spinning and weaving its cocoon or covering. It thus spends about three days, during which a wonderful change is going on. While in the larva state, the creature has no tail, wings or legs; it is a simple worm. But while it is in its swaddling clothes, the legs and wings are gradually formed, and, at the end of twenty-one days from the laying of the egg, it gnaws through its covering and comes forth a winged insect, destined to sport in the air and hold a joyous revel among the flowers. As if impatient for sport, the insect goes forth soon after its birth, and it is said that it may be seen returning to the hive, loaded with wax, the same day that it became a bee!
While the young bees are in the larva state, the utmost care is taken of them. If any member of the hive is rude or careless toward the egg, or worm, or the yet unhatched pupa, the nurses are very angry. But when the pupa has gnawed his way through his covering, he seems to be regarded as of age, and able to take care of himself. The tender care of the nurse now ceases altogether; and the working bees scramble over his head, without scruple. While he is still weak, and scarcely strong enough to get out of his cell, as if for the very purpose of making him acquainted with the hardships of life, the rude multitude of bees rush headlong by, often knocking him down, and sometimes giving him a severe poke in the side, or a thump on his skull. How much like human creatures the bees are!
I have told you how the working bee nymphs are hatched; the complete bee is formed in twenty-one days. The process is nearly the same, in respect to the queen bees and the drones; the former, however, are hatched in sixteen days, and the latter in twenty-five, from the laying of the eggs. There is one thing in respect to the royal bees, or queens, too curious to be omitted. When they are nearly ready to emerge from their cells, the bees gnaw the covering so as to make it very thin. They then eat a small hole through it, and feed the pupas for a few days. They are thus kept as prisoners, and during this time they begin to sing a faint song, called _piping_. This is so droll, that I can’t help writing a song, which I shall call the
LAY OF THE INFANT QUEEN BEE.
Oh let me out, My masters――pray. Oh let me out To-day――to-day!
Oh let me out To try my wing, To run about And dance and sing.
Oh let me out To taste the breeze, And I will bless Ye, pretty bees!
Oh let me out To see the bowers, Where honey dwells In golden flowers!
Oh let me out, For I’m a queen―― A pretty bee As e’er was seen!
Should you suppose it possible that the bees could resist such a petition as this? Yet it is a fact that often the queens are detained as prisoners for four or five days, notwithstanding their _piping_.
* * * * *
A CHILD’S PHILOSOPHY.――Little G――――, when playing the other day on a pile of wood, fell down and hurt himself. As he lay crying very bitterly, one of his friends passed by, lifted him up, and patting him on the head, said to him――“Come, my little boy, don’t cry; it will be well to-morrow.” “Well,” said he, sobbing, “then I will not cry to-morrow.”
MERRY’S MUSEUM.
Vol. VI. OCTOBER, 1843. No. 4.
[Illustration]
October.
It is now October――the tenth month in the year. It was anciently called _wyn monat_, or wine month, because this is the season of the vintage. An old stanza says,
“Then for ‘October month’ they put A rude illuminated cut, Reaching the grapes from off the vine, Or pressing them, or turning wine; Or something to denote that there Was vintage at this time of year.”
In this country, we have some grapes, but we make no wine, or very little. With us, October is a beautiful month; for now the green leaves of the forest are changed and present a variety of the most brilliant hues. The woodbine is seen climbing up the trees and rocks, as red as the coat of a British soldier. The ash, the maple, the oak, the shumack, are clothed in red, yellow, and purple of every shade. The mountain seems to be robed in a coat of many colors.
Although winter is approaching, and already many of the leaves are dropping from the boughs to wither and to perish, still the aspect of the forest is gay and brilliant, as if nature put on her most gorgeous garments at the very moment when death and decay are approaching.
While these scenes are presented to the eye, the farmer is busy in gathering his crop of Indian corn, digging his potatoes, and securing the pumpkins, squashes, beets, and other vegetables of the garden. The migratory birds have departed, but the whistle of the quail is heard at morning and evening. The drumming of the partridge murmurs through the forest, and the squirrel is seen feasting upon the chestnut and walnut trees. October is, indeed, a pleasant month.
[Illustration: _The Island of Hong Kong._]
The Island of Hong Kong.
In the late war between Great Britain and China, the former took possession of the island of Hong Kong. They still retain it as a station for their vessels; and as it is likely to become a place of some interest, we give a picture which presents the bold and rugged aspect of the country, and we shall now add a few particulars descriptive of the island.
It lies on the coast, at the south-eastern point of China, and near to the main land. Its surface is very uneven, it being broken into rugged mountains and deep valleys. It appears like a huge mass of earth and rock, that has been severed from the adjacent continent and tumbled into the sea. The loftiest peak is said to be about fifteen hundred feet high.
The view of the island which we have presented, exhibits several tall conical mountains, rising in the centre, and a beautiful cascade, pouring over a high rock into the sea. To the right may be seen a few small huts, which, a few years since, constituted the only habitations upon the island. These were occupied by a small number of miserable natives, who lived almost entirely by fishing.
The island is for the most part sterile and unpromising. It has no beasts and few birds; scarcely a tree finds root in its soil, and the shrubs are stunted and dwarf-like. By the margin of the streams, there are numerous flowers, some of which are exceedingly beautiful. The climate is hot, and the thermometer sometimes rises to one hundred and twenty degrees. This island is chiefly valuable to the British on account of its fine harbor, which is capable of containing a great number of ships, which may there rest in security.
Tippoo Saib.
[Illustration]
This monarch, sultan of Mysore in Hindostan, was a son of the famous Hyder Ali, and became distinguished in those wars which Great Britain carried on for the purpose of subjecting this portion of India. He was born in 1751, and succeeded his father in 1782. In 1783, he signed a treaty of peace with England, which put an end to the wars that his father had commenced.
Tippoo had now a kingdom about twice as large as the state of New York in extent, with an annual revenue of $14,000,000. The country was thickly peopled and well cultivated; but Tippoo was a Mahometan, and he began to persecute those who differed from him in religious faith. He caused the Brahmins to be cruelly beaten, and such was his rigor towards the Christians, that seventy thousand of them left his dominions.
After a time, he became again involved in a war with the English, and Tippoo was besieged by Lord Cornwall, in his capital of Seringapatam. Reduced to extremity, he agreed to a peace, by the terms of which he was compelled to relinquish one half his kingdom and pay the enormous sum of $15,000,000. This took place in 1792.
Tippoo was a man of great talents and a good deal of pride. He could not well submit to the humiliation he had suffered, and accordingly he again engaged in war against the English. He had entered into intrigues with the French, and as Bonaparte at this time made his famous expedition into Egypt, it has been supposed that he expected assistance from Tippoo in an attempt to subjugate India and strip England of her possessions in that quarter.
The British troops prosecuted the war with vigor, and having defeated the sultan in two pitched battles, he was obliged to retreat to his capital. Here he was again invested, and on the 4th of May, 1799, Seringapatam was carried by storm. Tippoo was slain in the assault, while bravely defending the ramparts, and his kingdom was divided. This monarch, though capricious and cruel, was fond of literature, and had collected an extensive and valuable library, which is still preserved in the University of Calcutta.
A Revolutionary Story.