shrink at the description of some of the dangerous operations ventured on with such irritable subjects, and will be disposed on every occasion of this kind to ensconce himself in impenetrable defensive armour. In forming artificial swarms, in depriving the bees of their hard-earned stores, or interfering in any way with the brood, he will do well to protect himself by such means. But in regard to natural swarms, he need be under no apprehension, and this panoply is then quite unnecessary. Every person accustomed to work amongst bees, knows how safely he may go into the midst of a newly departed swarm, not one bee of which will molest him, unless he accidentally crush or injure it during his operations. They are so intent on the great object of their emigration, the acquisition of a new abode, and so sensitively anxious about the safety of their mother and Queen, that what on ordinary occasions would draw forth many a vengeful weapon, now passes utterly unheeded by them; and the cultivator may, in the event of their clustering in an inconvenient spot for being hived, lift them in handfuls like so much grain, without in the least suffering for his boldness.
The following instances, in proof of this, are very interesting, and worthy of being repeatedly brought forward, not only as illustrating a remarkable featured in the history of the Bee, but as being well calculated to inspire confidence in those who are required to work amongst these sensitive creatures at the swarming season. The first instance is from M. Lombard:—"A young girl of my acquaintance was greatly
