Wings and Stings~
With the Original Illustrations

 

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Gift of Family Writing

 

The 1902 classic by Agnes McClelland Daulton

Hollyhock Hall
Air Castles and Dugouts
Jolly Little Tars
Gadabouts
The Courage of Kettin

A Great Family
Little Miss Argiope
The Nest Builder's Convention

The Spiders' Garden Party
The Roses Reunion
Her Majesty the Queen
Where Lilies Bloom

 

A Sample from Chapter One
Hollyhock Hill

      One morning in May, Meadow Sip came out of the front door of Hollyhock Hall with a gay little flip and a happy little flutter. Then she stood on the veranda looking across the field with her two far-sighted eyes to where the orchard lay misting in delicate pink and white. Such wonderful, far-seeing eyes had Meadow Sip! Each eye was made up of six thousand three hundred wee, wee eyes, or "facets," and instead of eyelashes she had hairs growing right out of her eyes in the queerest way.      
       But when you are flying away up in the air, and there are thousands of babies at home waiting to be fed, and you are in the greatest hurry, and honey must be had, and you have to see the honey blossoms quickly, you need every eye you can possible get. So really, Meadow Sip hadn't one she could spare; and beside all these she had three little near-sighted eyes on the top of her head so she could see what was going on right under her nose when she turned herself upside down to drink.
       Meadow Sip thought, as she looked away toward the orchard with her far-sighted eyes, that it was the most perfect day she had ever seen. The sky was turquois-blue wherever the pearly fluff of the clouds would let it peep through; the morning was warm and pleasant, and there were delicious whiffs of fragrance everywhere.
      Across the road from Hollyhock Hall a wild crab-apple tree was swinging her censers, and oh, the incense she used! Was there ever anything so delicate and sweet? Her perfume so certainly promised of honey that it had lured to her hundreds of Meadow Sip's sisters. But she still needed helpers to carry her pollen, so she swung and swung her rosy cups, and tempted and tempted, although every bough was a-humming and a-buzzing.
       Out of Hollyhock Hall skipped Plum Petal, all a-quiver with life and joy, and sat down by Meadow Sip to make her toilet, for she was the daintiest of bees. First she cleaned her antennae with the little round comb, and the odd brush she carried on the fifth joint of each front leg. Next she brushed her head and delicately combed her eye-hairs. Then she brushed her velvet waist and preened her wings with the prongs she carried on her middle legs, and dusted out her pollen baskets. Last of all she stood on her front legs while with her hind legs she scrubbed and polished every atom of her fuzzy, buzzy little body.
      "There," she said, with a sigh, "I feel better. How do I look, Meadow Sip?"
      "Beautiful," responded Meadow Sip, looking at her sister with her three near-sighted eyes. "There isn't a speck of dust about you. Where are you going this morning, Plum Petal? The crabapple tree uses a delicious perfume, but somehow I long for the orchard."
      "Then come along with me," said Plum Petal. "I began filling my second tier of cells with apple-blossom honey yesterday, so I am going over to the orchard. Here comes Grumble Buzz and Whiffle Whizz. I suppose the lazy things will tag us."
      "I would rather they would than not," laughed Meadow Sip, "for then we shall not have to feed them."
      Grumble Buzz and Whiffle Whiz came out of the hive stretching themselves and lazily rubbing their eyes.
      "Hello, sisters!" said Grumble Buzz when he saw Meadow Sip and Plum Petal. "Wait a bit, and we will fly with you."
      "Much good that will do us," cried Plum Petal, unfolding her four wings and hooking each upper wing to the lower.
      There she was with two beautifully firm wings like a fly. Every bee has a row of hooks upon the lower wing that fits into a groove upon the upper wing. If Plum Petal hadn't hooked her wings together she would have flip-flapped about like a kite without a tail.
      "I just wish you boys would do a little work," she went on, getting ready to fly. "It seems pretty hard that the good queen mother and we girls should do all the work at Holly hock Hall, and support you lazy bees, too. Come on, Meadow Sip; I shan't wait for them."
And up and up in spirals sailed Plum Petal and Meadow Sip, and then off they skimmed to the orchard.
      "Bah! I don't care," buzzed Whiffle Whiz, cleaning his antennae with his right front foot. "I wonder how they expect a fellow who was hatched without pollen baskets to fetch and carry."
      "Those girls are always fussing," muttered Grumble Buzz. "One would think that anyone with one eye, not to mention twelve thousand six hundred and three eyes, would see that we are the aristocrats of the hive and were never intended for toil. We are much handsomer than the workers."
       They were handsome fellows. They had large round heads, and two great far-sighted eyes with more than twice as many "facets" as the sisters, eyes so large that they pushed the three little near-sighted eyes right down in the middle of the bees' foreheads, instead of leaving them on the top of their heads where the sisters wore theirs. Their antennae were long and delicate. They had big bodies and large, filmy wings, and they wore soft, brown, fur coats.
      "I don't care what the sisters say," buzzed Whiffle Whiz again. "We haven't any honey sacs, so we can't carry honey; we haven't any pollen baskets, so we can't bring pollen; no wax pockets, so we can't build comb; no stings, so we can't fight, and our tongues are too short and weak for any but the shallowest blossoms. We were hatched so, and I think it is a shame to be down on a fellow for what he can't help."
      "Never mind," advised Grumble Buzz, as he polished off his wings with his hind legs. "Let'em fuss if they want to. Here come Hum Mumble and Mutter Fuzz. How-de-do, fellows? We are going to take a fly to Apple Blossom Inn. Want to come along before the rest of the drones get started?"
      "To be sure," cried Hum Mumble, dusting his velvet knees.                     
       "Buckwheat Fluff has promised to show us the very honeyest tree in the orchard. Buckwheat Fluff will let you go, I am sure."
"Then let's be off," exclaimed Whiffle Whiz, hooking his wings with a click. "Here comes Buckwheat Fluff now."
      Buckwheat Fluff was a very young bee, so young that she had been out of the hive only a few days. Before that she had been one of the nurses, feeding the babies and cuddling close with her sisters as they swarmed over the comb so that their furry bodies might keep the eggs warm in the cells. But now she was free; free to fly in the warm sunshine--but never idle; bless you, no!--busy every moment, but free to fly in the sweet air, and her first thought was to help her brothers.
      "Now hurry up, Drones!" she cried, unfurling her wings. "Sister Locust Whiff has promised to show me how to make wax this afternoon, and she said the first thing was to drink all the honey I could. I ought to be sipping now, so hurry up, boys!"
      Away flew Grumble Buzz, Whiffle Whiz, Hum Mumble, Mutter Fuzz, and kind little Buckwheat Fluff. Up and up, and away toward the hazy orchard. Every wing was going so fast that they buzz-z-z-ed just as when the night wind goes whispering through a knot hole.
      "Here's the tree," called Buckwheat Fluff, gayly, and every gauzy wing stopped buzzing, and down they whisked right into a soft, downy bed of apple blossoms. Such masses of little white cups, tipped with pink, and such clusters of buds all a-blushing! And, oh, the breath of them! And everywhere were bees, big, old, mumbly, grumbly bumbles; slender Italian bees, with five golden stripes; mason bees, carpenter bees, tailor bees, and common little gray-coated fuzzy, buzzy bess. And what a rolling, grumbling, rumbling of busy wings! All the tree was humming.
      In a jiffy Buckwheat Fluff whisked out her brown tongue from the groove under her chin. Such a wonderful tongue! so long, shining, flexible, and strong; as slender as a thread, and decorated with tiny circles of hairs that held fast the honey, and so enabled her to draw it up into her mouth, and with the queerest tip like a little round plate, just the thing for licking. So delicate and marvelous a tongue must be very carefully kept, so Buckwheat Fluff wore it in two sheaths and folded it back when it was not in use. But now she thrust it deep into the honey cups and drank and drank, and instead of filling the little honey sac she had for carrying honey, she swallowed it for good and all, as Locust Whiff had told her. She didn't forget to fill the pollen baskets on her hind legs full to overflowing, nor to pay toll to the apple blossoms, as an honest bee should. Back and forth she flew from blossom to blossom, carrying pollen on her fuzzy head and her long tongue so that the stigmas, waiting and sticky, might drink it up. For Buckwheat Fluff was a wise bee, and she said to herself: "No pollen no apples, no apples no seeds, no seeds no new trees, no trees no blossoms, no blossom no honey, and where would the bees be then?"
      "Oh, Meadow Sip and Plum Petal," she called, as her sisters settled near her among the apple blossoms; "Locust Whiff said we were going to begin making wax in the hive this afternoon. Are you going to help?"
      "Now isn't that just like a young bee?" laughed Plum Petal. "She's all excitement over her new work. How well I remember my first experience in wax-making, and how important I felt. Of course we are going to help, and it is high time we were getting back. Have you eaten all the honey you can hold, Buckwheat Fluff?"
      "Oh, yes," she replied eagerly. "I am so full I can't take another sip, and I am so sleepy."
      "That is just as it should be," said Meadow Sip, "so home we go."
      "Good-by, brothers!" cried Buckwheat Fluff in a drowsy voice to the drones who were drinking honey on the next bough, and then the three sisters flew off to Hollyhock Hall. There were many sister bees hurrying from every direction toward the hive, each bee gorged with honey and heavy with sleep, as gluttons are sure to be....
 

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