“No,” I said, “you shall never wear the crown!” I flew at him, and profiting by a momentary turn of his head, pierced him to the heart with my sting. Hardly had he breathed his last, when I burst into remorseful tears. I returned to the hive to find everything in the greatest disorder. The entire community, a prey to the deepest agitation, were jostling and knocking each other about. “What has happened?” I inquired of the first Bee I met. “What happened?” he replied. “Why, one of the Drones is missing. “How is that known?” I continued with much fear. {267} “At the evening call there were only five hundred and ninety-nine Drones present. The queen has had a nervous attack, and one is lost in conjecture as to what will be the result.” “A dreadful affair!” I replied, and hastened to mingle with the crowd. The queen was inconsolable, and so was I myself, for the space of two whole days. {268} THE LOVES OF TWO INSECTS. _PRESENTED AS AN EXAMPLE TO WISE MEN._[1] SENTIMENTAL HISTORY OF ANIMALS. I. PROFESSOR GRANARIUS. [Illustration] “Certainly,” said Professor Granarius, one evening while seated beneath his limes, “nothing is more curious than the conduct of Jarpeado. In truth, if the French followed his example, we should have no need of codes, mandates, sermons, or social gatherings, for the advancement of mankind. Nothing proves more conclusively that _reason_ alone—the attribute of which men are so proud—is the prime cause of all the evils of Society.” [1] The distinguished animal to whom we owe this history—designed to show that the creatures so boldly named stupid by men, and in reality superior to human beings—desires to remain anonymous. It may nevertheless be said, that he is a creature who held a very high place in the affections of Miss Anna Granarius, and that he belongs to the sect of reasoning animals, for whose members she had the greatest esteem.—ED. Miss Anna Granarius, who was devotedly attached to a poor student, could not help blushing deeply, for her skin was fair and delicate. Anna was the typical {269} heroine of a Scotch novel, the profound depths of her blue eyes almost betokening “Second-sight.” By the candid and caught look of the professor, she perceived he had said one of those foolish things which frequently fall from the lips of scientific dreamers. Leaving her father to follow out his dream on the depravity of human reason, she bent her steps to a favourite spot in the Jardin des Plantes which was closed for the night, as the month was July and the hour half-past eight.