Having explained to you the mechanism and functions of the proboscis, I now proceed to describe those of the sting, which are no less worthy of admiration for the perfection with which that organ is formed, and by which it accomplishes its various purposes. It consists of a couple of darts, enclosed in a sheath; but the darts and sheath are so very minute that the separate parts are not distinguishable by the naked eye. That part called the sheath, though appearing to be a single tube, is divided into several portions, each of which is capable of being received by the one above it, like the pieces of a telescope, so that it can be lengthened or shortened at pleasure. The beauty and utility of this latter part of its organisation will be still more evident when I come to speak of the Queen. In some other insects this apparatus serves not only the purpose of a sting, but also that of a saw or a gimlet, to pierce a passage through wood or other materials. When the insect stings, the sheath is the first part that penetrates the skin, but it is instantly followed by the darts, not simultaneously, but first one and then the other, and with the rapidity of lightning; by which means, as each dart is provided with a barb, it can lay firmer hold, and penetrate deeper into the flesh. When at its full depth, a poisonous liquor, which is always ready prepared at its root in the venom bag, is forced down the sheath into the wound, causing that sharp pain, inflammation, and swelling which _usually_ ensue. I say _usually_ ensue, for in some peculiar habits, as I have known, in several instances, no apparent inconvenience is produced by a sting, not even so much as would be caused by the prick of a needle; owing to the exquisitely superior fineness of the former. I once had an opportunity of having this confirmed in a remarkable maimer by a respectable Kentish farmer, who pat it to the test upon one of his female servants. She was boasting one day of her flesh being poison proof, and saying she did not mind the sting of a bee or a wasp--not she, for they never did her any damage, and that she should not mind letting any one inflict any number of stings upon her at a penny a piece I Her incredulous master accepted the challenge, and "Verily," said he, "I took six penny worth of stinging out of her, without causing her to flinch in the least, or apparently to suffer the very slightest uneasiness, or any subsequent inconvenience!" This, however, is an impunity which very few are endowed with, for in general the pain inflicted by a sting is very severe, not only at the moment, but, where timely remedies have not been applied, of considerable duration, ending often in much tumour and inflammation, and in some instances, where the stings have been numerous, fatal consequences have ensued. Whenever an attack is made by a bee, the person aimed at should walk quietly away to the nearest bush or other shelter. If he start or suffer himself to