"Attic maiden, honey fed, Chirping warbler, bear'st away, Thou the busy buzzing bee, To thy callow brood a prey? Warbler, thou a warbler seize? Winged, one with lovely wings? Guest thyself, by Summer brought, Yellow guest whom Summer brings? Wilt not quickly let it drop? 'Tis not fair, indeed 'tis wrong, That the ceaseless warbler should Die by mouth of ceaseless song." _Merivale's Translation._ I have not the space to speak at length of the other enemies of the honied race: nor indeed is it at all necessary. If the Apiarian only succeeds in keeping his stocks strong, they will be their own best protectors, and if he does not succeed in this, they would be of little value, even if they had no enemies ever vigilant, to watch for their halting. Nations which are both rich and feeble, invite attack, as well as unfit themselves for vigorous resistance. Just so with the commonwealth of bees. Unless amply guarded by thousands ready to die in its defence, it is ever liable to fall a prey to some one of its many enemies, which are all agreed in this one opinion, at least, that stolen honey is much more sweet than the slow accumulations of patient industry. In the Chapters on Protection and Ventilation, I have spoken of the fatal effects of dysentery. This disease can always be prevented by proper caution on the part of the bee-keeper. Let him be careful not to feed his bees, late in the season, on liquid honey, (see Chapter on Feeding,) and let him keep them in dry and thoroughly protected hives. If his situation is at all damp, and there is danger that water will settle under his Protector, let him build it entirely _above ground_; otherwise it may be as bad as a damp cellar, and incomparably worse than nothing at all.