Plants and their childrenParsons, Frances Theodora
General
Plants and their children
Parsons, Frances Theodora
Botany -- Juvenile literature; Plants -- Juvenile literature
Perhaps it would be more true to say that the bee set out to hunt for
the sweet stuff of which honey is made; for while this sweet stuff
is still in the flower cup it is not honey, any more than the wheat
growing in the field is bread. The wheat becomes bread later, after it
has been cut and gathered and threshed and ground, and brought into the
kitchen and there changed into bread; and the sweet stuff becomes honey
only after the bees have carried it home and worked it.
As the bee left home this particular morning, it made up its mind that
it would devote itself to the apple blossoms; for did you know that
when a bee goes flower visiting, usually it gives all its attention to
one kind of flower till it has finished that special round of visits?
So off the bee flew; and in a few moments it saw hundreds of little
pink and white handkerchiefs waving at it from the apple orchard.
What do you suppose these were, these gay little handkerchiefs?
They were the flower leaves of the apple blossoms. I call them
handkerchiefs, because, just as boys and girls sometimes wave their
handkerchiefs when they wish to signal other boys and girls, so the
apple tree uses its gay flower leaves to attract the attention of the
bee, and persuade it to visit the flowers. Of course, really, they are
not handkerchiefs at all. They would hardly be large enough for any but
fairy noses, would they?
When the bee saw so many bright handkerchiefs waving it welcome, along
it hurried; for it knew this was a signal that material for honey
making was at hand. Another minute, and it had settled upon a freshly
opened flower, and was eagerly stealing the precious sweet.
You children know, that, when you are given permission to go to the
closet for a piece of candy or cake, you are not apt to set about it
very gently. You are in too much of a hurry for that. Often you come
very near knocking everything over, in your haste to get hold of what
you want.
And bees are quite as greedy as any boy or girl could be. So our friend
dived right into the pretty flower, brushing rudely against the little
dust boxes. These, being full to overflowing with golden dust, spilled
their contents, and powdered the bee quite yellow.
Having made sure that nothing more was to be found just there, off
flew the dusty bee to the next blossom. Into this it pushed its way,
and in so doing struck those pins which have no dust boxes; and upon
their broad, flat tips fell some of the yellow dust grains with which
its body was powdered.
Now there began to happen a strange thing.
But before I tell you more, I must stop one moment to remind you that
these pins without dust boxes are joined below into one piece, and that
this piece is set deep into the green cup which holds the rest of the
flower (see Fig. 4); and I must tell you, that, if you should cut open
this cup, you would find a number of little round objects looking like
tiny green eggs.
The strange thing that began to happen was this:—
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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