And we sit perfectly still and hear the beautiful Haydn changes on the four bells, and then count twelve clear strokes of the big clock-bell that come all the way from the Quadrangle to us, softened and mellowed by the distance. We must go home to luncheon. And after luncheon I must go and lecture--Ugh! How sad!--sad for the students and sad for me. But that's the way we do it, and until we find the real way, we must all continue to suffer together. "Come, Mary, we're off. How would you like to be a May-fly?" "And have only one day to live when I'm all grown up?" "You might be saved some troubles, Mary." [Illustration: IN FUZZY'S GLASS HOUSE] IN FUZZY'S GLASS HOUSE Fuzzy was distinguished from most of her brothers and sisters, when we first became acquainted with her, by the fine head of hair which she had. It has been several weeks now since we first saw her, and there are bald places already--so strenuous has been her life. To be sure that we should be able to recognize her even after she became worn and bald, like the others, we dabbed a spot of white paint on her back between the shoulders, and although old age and its attendant ills, including the loss of much of her hair, have come on rapidly, the white spot is still there, and we know Fuzzy whenever we see her. We were watching what was going on in Fuzzy's glass house at the very time that Fuzzy first came out of her six-sided little private nursery room. In this she had spent all of her three weeks of getting hatched from an egg--we had seen her own very egg laid by the queen mother!--then of living as a helpless baby bee without wings or feet or eyes or feelers, and having to be fed bee-jelly and bee-bread by the nurses, and then as a slowly maturing young bee with legs and wings and eyes and feelers all forming and growing. Part of this time she had been shut up in her room by having the door sealed with wax, and she had had no food at all. But she had been fed enough at first to last her through the days when she had no food. It was the twentieth or twenty-first day since she had been born, that is, had hatched from the little, long, white, seed-like egg that the queen bee had laid in this six-sided waxen room or cell. And Fuzzy was all ready to come out into the world. So she tried her strong new trowel-like jaws on the thin waxen door of her room, and found no trouble at all in biting a hole through it large enough to let her wriggle out. Which she did right under our very eyes.