182 The Humble Bee. between the closed lips of such flowers as our common snapdragon; and we have marvelled to observe the dexterity with which the insect, resting on the elastic lower lip, first insinuated its tongue and then its head into the opening, using these as wedges to force its way in. After obtaining the honey at the bottom of the blossom, it would creep out once more in the same manner as it entered. Many a honey-laden flower is formed too small. in its natural opening to admit the bulky body of the humble bee, who, however, is not to be baulked of the treasure, and unhesitatingly makes an incision at the base of the corolla, thrusting in its little trunk-like proboscis, and sucking out the sweet juices. Consequently, such thievish propensities often do much serious damage to fields of peas and beans, for the holes which the insect makes in the blossoms so injure the pod in its earliest stage, that it is often altogether destroyed. If our humble bee, however, sometimes proves a pest in the garden, so it in turn suffers from a pest of its own, for it is often tormented with a species of mite that, lodging in its furry coat, defies all attempts to be shaken off. Well does the victimized bee appear to be aware that ants are extremely fond of this mite; and so she knowingly resorts to them to be rid of her annoyance. Visiting an ant-hill, she kicks, scratches, and raises such a disturbance, that the inhabitants come forth to inquire into the cause, and at once falling on the prize of mites, speedily bear them away, when Bombus terrestris, grateful, doubtless, for the service thus rendered her, contentedly wings her way to her home, flying, or wheeling, from side to side, traversing the air in segments of a circle with that marvellous rapidity of flight so peculiar to her, and which is said, the size of the creature considered, far to exceed that of any bird. It seems to be rather a difficult question to decide the real cause of the humming of bees, which children are, perhaps naturally, apt to believe proceeds from the mouth, and which is more generally supposed to be produced by the wings The Humble Bee. 183 beating against some vibratory substance. Entomologists have ascertained that when the wings are cut off, and the legs held fast, the insect is still able to emit a little shrill sound; and therefore this fact confirms the experiments which have gone to prove that the noise is caused, not by the wings themselves, but by the vibration at the roots, for if these be completely pulled out, we are told the sound ceases. From whatever source it proceeds, however, the rich, sonorous humming of the humble bee is a pleasant sound; and its contented murmur, as it hovers over or rifles the honeyed blossom, is as familiar to our childish ears, as the louder tones of expostulating indignation which it raises when taken prisoner. Then "The shriller sound declares extreme distress.' And I would warn my young friends to be careful of that sting which a watchful Providence has bestowed on the insect to defend itself. On my table beside me is the original of my sketch, safely secured under a bell-glass, that I might watch her movements, and the better describe her to my young friends. Much anger and energy of spirit has she shown in her imprisonment; endless in her efforts of escape; keeping up a continuous booming buzz, throwing herself into all kinds of contortions if meddled with, elevating her legs at one side in a menacing attitude, showing her sting, and ejecting her poison. Yet in her gentler moods she has apparently enjoyed the fresh blossom and luscious sugar which has been provided for her, and has served my purpose well, by readily exhibiting her various abilities and natural instincts. With a kindly good-bye, I open her prison door, and release my impatient captive, bidding her, in the words of Charlotte Smith, 'Go while the summer suns are bright, With every rich and various sweet; Dive in the woodbine's honeyed horn; EXT to the mountains and glaciers, the lakes and rivers are the most interesting and striking features of the varied scenery of Switzerland. The lakes are very numerous, and some of them are of great extent. It is estimated that they cover a surface of nearly one thousand square miles, while their surroundings' present an almost endless variety of rich verdure, or dense foliage, of luxuriant beauty or stern sublimity. The principal lakes are the fol lowing: Constance on the north-east, fortyeight miles long by about nine miles broad, and in some parts nearly 1000 feet in depth, but comparatively tame and uninteresting; also Neufchatel on the west, twentyfour miles long and six broad, and remarkable for its rich and quiet beauty; besides, Zurich's fair waters,' Zug, a perfect gem of loveliness, Lucerne, which is perhaps the most romantic of all, with Brienz and Thun, which are scarcely equal to some of the Scottish lakes. But the largest of all is the celebrated lake of Geneva, or Leman. It is fifty-five miles long by the north bank, and nearly nine miles broad; and it has an area of 260 square miles. Having sailed upon its waters, and skirted its northern |