But some one asks the question, shall we not receive those merciless stings, or be introduced to what "Josh" calls the "business end of the bee?" Perhaps there is no more causeless, or more common dread, in existence, than this of bees' stings. When bees are gathering, they will never sting unless provoked. When at the hives--especially if Italians--they will rarely make an attack. The common belief, too, that some persons are more liable to attack than others, is, I think, put too strong. With the best opportunity to judge, with our hundreds of students, I think I may safely say that one is almost always as liable to attack as another, except that he is more quiet, or does not greet the usually amiable passer-by, with those terrific thrusts, which would vanquish even a practiced pugilist. Occasionally a person _may_ have a peculiar odor about his person that angers bees and invites their darting tilts, with drawn swords, venom-tipped, yet, though I take my large classes each season, at frequent intervals, to see and handle the bees, each for himself, I still await the first proof of the fact, that one person is more liable to be stung than another, providing each carries himself with that composed and dignified bearing, that is so pleasing to the bees. True, some people, filled with dread, and the belief that bees regard them with special hate and malice, are so ready for the battle, that they commence the strife with nervous head-shakes and beating of the air, and thus force the bees to battle, _nolens volens_. I believe that only such are regarded with special aversion by the bees. Hence, I believe that no one need be stung. Bees should never be jarred, nor irritated by quick motions. Those with nervous temperaments--and I plead very guilty on this point--need not give up, but at first better protect their faces, and perhaps even their hands, till time and experience show them that fear is vain; then they will divest themselves of all such useless encumbrances. Bees are more cross when they are gathering no honey, and at such times, black bees and hybrids, especially, are so irritable that even the experienced apiarist will wish a veil. THE BEST BEE-VEIL. This should be made of black tarlatan, sewed up like a bag, a half yard long, without top or bottom, and with a diameter of the rim of a common straw-hat. Gather the top with braid, so that it will just slip over the crown of the hat--else, sew it to the edge of the rim of some cheap, cool hat, in fact, I prefer this style--and gather the bottom with rubber cord or rubber tape, so that it may be drawn over the hat rim, and then over the head, as we adjust the hat. [Illustration: Fig. 62.]