THE BEES.
A little girl was eating her supper; it was bread and milk, with some honey. “Pray,” said the little girl, “who makes honey for my supper?”
Mother. The bees collect it.
Girl. Where do they find it?
Mother. In the flowers.
Girl. Where do the bees live?
Mother. Those which supply us with honey, live in a hive.
Girl. What is it made of?
Mother. Ours are made of straw.
Girl. Pray, mamma, tell me a great deal about the bees, whilst I eat my milk.
Mother. In the night, and when the weather is cold, they keep in the hive. When the sun shines, and the days are warm, they fly abroad. They search far and near for such flowers as supply them with honey or wax. Of the wax they make cells which we call comb. In some of the cells they lay up stores of honey to support them in the winter, when they can not venture out to seek for food. In some of the cells they nurse their young ones, who have no wings. They are very neat creatures; they keep the hive quite clean. They carry out the dead bees.