CHAP. I.
"Imagination to his view "Presents it, deck'd with every hue, "That can seduce him not to spare "His pow'rs of best exertion there."
COWPER.
A Bee who had passed the first winter of his life under the fosteringcare of his mother, though often warned by her of mistaking a fine dayearly in the spring for the summer, or the time in which it would beof any use to make an excursion from the hive, was eager to begin histravels; he heard his companions talking of the flights they had takenin the former summer, and had tasted of the honey they had at that timebrought home, and laid up in store for food when none other could beprocured: he had also enjoyed some of those flights with them, and hadhelped to gather in the common stock, (for Bees, though ever so young,are seldom idle;) but he was not aware that many a cold and wint'ry daywould yet precede the time of gathering in a fresh store; even afterthe sun had shone, and the birds had sung, as if it was nearly come.
During the severity of winter he remained quietly in his cell, rejoicedin the shelter it afforded him, and joined the crowded hive in payingevery respect to their queen and mother, who, while she treated themwith the care and tenderness of a parent, kept up her dignity as asovereign, and ruled her subjects with the greatest order. Every partof her dominions was thoroughly known to her, and nothing suffered toremain within them that could annoy her numerous family; she rejoicedin their prosperity, and all were happy under her government except thelittle fellow who is to be the hero of my tale. He would often creep tothe entrance of the hive and peep, first on one side and then on theother, of the covering placed before it by its careful owners, whilethe blustering winds were raging around; but no sooner did the leastwarm weather appear than it was removed for the inhabitants to havemore air, and this, to our young one, was a joyful sight; he lookedupon it as a prelude to the summer, and running to his companions, hesaid, "we shall soon be able to get out, the way is open."
"Be not too eager;" replied one of more experience than himself, "bythe time one winter has passed over your head you may be a littlewiser."
"It _is_ passed, I think," returned the young one, "don't you feelthe warmth of the sun? It reminds me of the pleasant rambles we tooktogether last summer, and I am impatient to renew them."
"You are indeed _impatient_," replied the hoary Bee, "but timeenough yet; don't you know that our cities are always placed in suchadvantageous situations that we have the earliest benefit from thesun's rays? but let not this make you suppose the season fartheradvanced than it is."
"Well, now," replied the conceited chatterer, "only put your head outand feel how very warm it is."
"No, I thank you," returned the other, with a shrug; "I know what it isto trust to appearances, and can feel even here that the cold weatheris not gone, and if you go only to the back of the hive you may hearhow the wind still whistles behind it."
"I had rather look at the sunshine," returned the simple one, andleaving his sage adviser he determined to think that it was because hewas old and lazy he wished to stay at home, and keep others there also,as an excuse for his own idleness; "let them stay then," said he, "butfor my part I am inclined to make the most of my time, and no doubtshall bring home many a load before these old creepers will believethat there is anything to be gathered."
This resolution of the young Bee was not long a secret in thecommunity; he buzzed it about among all his acquaintances; nor was ithid from the queen, who, acting in the two-fold character, first warnedhim of the danger, and then, on pain of their not being re-admitted,absolutely forbade any one's going out of the hive without her leave.But what can deter the obstinacy of a conceited youngster? Nothing. Ifexperience obliges him to confess that in _one_ thing he is wrong, hestill continues as firmly bent upon another; and if once inclined tothink that he must know as well as others, will continue to think so,till experience teaches him that in all things he is liable to mistake.But my little hero was not yet brought to this conclusion, neitherperhaps are many who will read his history; but, as our ingeniousfabulist tells us,--
"Every object of creation "Can furnish hints for contemplation,"
who knows whether something may not be learnt from the history of a Bee?
In spite of the remonstrances of her majesty, he still wished to getout, and after daily visiting the front of the hive for nearly a month,during which time the fine weather continued, he began to persuadehimself the interdiction could not extend so far as this; "It hasbeen fine a great while," said he to himself, "and if we stay withinat this rate we shall let all the summer pass away;" and again hisformer surmise returned, "they are old and lazy," continued he, "andwhile they have any food left, are determined not to seek for more; Iwill not stay, however;" and he was still farther confirmed in thisresolution, when boldly advancing quite out on the block he saw otherBees, from a neighbouring hive, taking the air, and appearing likehimself to be thinking it high time to get abroad. A swarm of insectsalso were enjoying themselves, and frisking about in the warm sun.Struck with shame that these should be on the wing before him, he atthat moment forgot all the kind admonitions of his mother, and thepunishment that awaited him if he disobeyed them; and mounting in theair, his loud humming testified his joy at being again at liberty.But alas! where was he to go? or to what flower could he now pay hiscourt? The fluttering insects he had seen were but the dancers of theday, just born to frisk a few hours, and then return to their originalnothingness; and our young adventurer disdained to join the giddytrain, or even to appear to notice what was so unlike the character ofa busy Bee.
It was now the latter end of April, when the thorn is in blossom,violets and primroses also decorate the hedges, and the hypatica, andpolyanthus "of unnumbered dyes," already appeared in the gardens; butvery few leaves were yet on the trees, though the buds were bursting,and many of the fruit-trees were in full bloom; to these our littlewanderer winged his way, and as he flew from blossom to blossom, andfrom one branch to the other, he could not but acknowledge with regretthat his limbs felt cold, and very different from the vigour theypossessed the former summer. He wished to attribute it to his havingbeen kept so long within the hive, but a sudden blast soon checked hisardour; a shivering came over him, and a drowsiness, which he couldnot account for, succeeded; presently a pelting shower obliged him tocreep for shelter into a wall, against which the trees were nailed, andhere he began to see his error; "Can I go back again?" said he; "Ah!no, they will not receive me; my absence is by this time known, and Iam never to be admitted more. Oh, my mother! would that I had followedyour counsel!"
He had scarcely spoken these words, when a mist spread itself beforehis eyes; his breath appeared failing, and he found himself still moreinclined to sleep, yet instinct told him that in such a state to giveway to the inclination was dangerous; he feared the cold would seizehim while insensible, and his life must pay for it, but all his effortsto keep himself awake were vain; the rain continued so, that he couldnot get out to use his wings, and at length lost to all recollection,he sunk stupid and senseless to the bottom of his retreat.
How long he continued in this torpid state I cannot say, but hisfriends he had left, after anxiously expecting his return from dayto day, and being disappointed, gave him up for lost; and though heoften awoke during his confinement, it was only to a keener sense ofhis misery; his limbs were still too stiff to move, his eyes dim,and each time that he closed them to return to sleep, (now the onlyalleviation of his sorrows,) he concluded he should never open themagain: he breathed a sigh of regret on the remembrance of the home hehad quitted, and would gladly have returned, and in the presence of thewhole community acknowledge his rashness; but alas! he could not nowmove a wing: yet as the warm weather came on, he felt himself revivebeyond his hopes: he could look out from the place of his confinement,and though not so ardent in his expectations as a few weeks before,he began again to feel a pleasure in the rays of the sun, and toanticipate a future enjoyment of them. "I shall not die," said he t
ohimself, "but shall yet be able to accomplish my desire, and shewmyself an industrious Bee."
The trees on which he had before observed only blossom were now fullof leaves; where the bloom had first appeared, he saw the fruit, yetin its infant state. "This is not now the food for me," said he, andhe looked wishfully around to observe if there were any flowers near,from which he could gather his accustomed nourishment. While thusengaged, a Butterfly, on sportive wing, came frisking by, and though hesettled first on one leaf, and then on another, was unmindful of him,till he fixed directly on that which shaded the place from which ourpoor invalid was examining the neighbouring plants. "Oh!" said he, witha heavy sigh, as he marked the light wing of this new comer, "Oh! thatI could fly like him and ramble from flower to flower, without pain ordread of any."
The attention of the Butterfly was attracted by the mournful tone inwhich this was uttered, and unlike many of his kind, he even stoppedto listen to the complaining insect, and ask if he could relieve him;"Perhaps," said he, "you are entangled in a spider's web; and though Iam unused to the art of war, I will endeavour to liberate you."
"An offer like this," replied the Bee, "I should not have expectedfrom one of your nature; but you can give me no assistance; it is nota web which keeps me here, but ill health, and which I have broughtupon myself by my own folly: I have no one else to blame, that I am notflying about as you are, though I hope to some better purpose."
"Do not be too sure of that," replied the good-humoured Butterfly, "nordespise the help of one so insignificant as you suppose I am; if I canin any way assist _you_, I shall not have been flying about in vain."
"I beg your pardon," returned the Bee, conscious that he should nothave answered in such a manner; "pray let the pain I feel plead myexcuse; I have been confined within this place for I don't know howlong, and now I feel the enlivening beams of the sun without being ableto enjoy them, and must even starve for want of food, after I haveescaped death from the cold that first seized me."
"Do not be discouraged," replied the Butterfly, "look at the borderjust below you, where there are many of the most beautiful flowers;surely they will afford you nourishment; you need not fear starving inthe midst of plenty."
"I can't extend my wings," said the Bee, very mournfully.
"If not your wings," replied his cheerful comforter, "can't you useyour feet and crawl down the wall, and then upon the ground, till youreach the flowers; don't be afraid, I'll venture my life that you willbe able to fly after taking a little of the delicious food they offeryou."
Animated by the Butterfly's words, the poor half-starved Beeendeavoured to follow his advice, and slowly creeping forth, he reachedat length the desirable haven of a beautiful convolvulus, whose headrested on the ground, whilst his compassionate adviser waited on thenearest bud to observe his progress; "did not I say you could reachit?" said he, fluttering his wings for joy, "who shall despise thecounsel of a Butterfly?"
"I will not for the future," replied the Bee, as he felt himselfreviving from the sweet smell of the flowers, and the warm rays of thesun shining full upon his back, and again he entreated him to pardonthe churlishness with which he at first received it.
"Oh, say no more of that," returned the Butterfly, "but tell me if youdo not find yourself better already? what, because you could not fly,were you to starve? Though it may be a disgrace for one who has wingsto crawl, yet surely it is better to do this than lie down and die; butI do not despair of seeing you fly to-morrow;" and, as he said this,extended his wings, as if to depart.
"You will not leave me," said the Bee, who the longer he nestled in thebell of the flower and tasted the food it afforded, felt his affectionincrease for the means through which he had procured it; "Won't youstay and see me return to my habitation? I think you'll already observean alteration for the better."
The Butterfly received this invitation with pleasure; indeed he hadonly pretended to be going that he might observe if he was still of solittle consequence in the eyes of the Bee, as for him not to wish hisstay. He therefore readily accepted it, attended him home, and had thepleasure of seeing him much better able to get up the wall than downit: and from this time a lasting friendship commenced between them, noless singular in its kind than in the cause of it; for naturally theseinsects do not notice the other.
The Butterfly, after seeing his new friend safely landed at his oldresting-place, and with him a little store of the delicate food he hadbeen tasting, marked the place, and kindly promised to see him againthe next morning, "when," said he, "I hope I shall find you both ableand willing to take a short flight with me," and then left him.
The Perambulations of a Bee and a Butterfly, Page 3