"See where, with hurried step, the impassioned throng Pace o'er the hive, and seem, with plaintive song, T' invite the loitering queen; now range the floor, And hang in cluster'd columns from the door; Or now in restless rings around they fly, Nor spoil thy sip, nor load the hollowed thigh; E'en the dull drone his wonted ease gives o'er, Flaps his unwieldy wings, and longs to soar." But when all is ready, a scene of the most violent agitation takes place; the bees rush out in vast numbers, forming quite a dark cloud as they traverse the air. The time selected for the departure of the emigrants is generally between 10 A.M. and 3 P.M.; most swarms come off within an hour of noon. It is a very general remark that bees choose a Sunday for swarming, and probably this is because then greater stillness reigns around. It will not be difficult to imagine that the careful bee-keeper is anxious to keep a strict watch, lest he should lose such a treasure when once it takes wing. The exciting scene at a bee-swarming has been well described by the apiarian laureate:-- "Up mounts the chief, and, to the cheated eye, Ten thousand shuttles dart along the sky; As swift through æther rise the rushing swarms, Gay dancing to the beam their sunbright forms; And each thin form, still lingering on the sight, Trails, as it shoots, a line of silver light. High poised on buoyant wing, the thoughtful queen, In gaze attentive, views the varied scene, And soon her far-fetched ken discerns below, The light laburnum lift her polished brow, Wave her green leafy ringlets o'er the glade. Swift as the falcon's sweep the monarch bends Her flight abrupt: the following host descends; Round the fine twig, like clustered grapes they close In thickening wreaths, and court a short repose." In many country districts it is a time-honoured custom for the good folks of the village to commence on such occasions a terrible noise of tanging and ringing with frying-pan and key. This is done with the absurd notion that the bees are charmed with the clangorous din, and may by it be induced to settle as near as possible to the source of such sweet sounds. This is, however, quite a mistake: there are other and better means for the purpose. The practice of ringing was originally adopted for a different and far more sensible object--viz., for the purpose of giving notice that a swarm had issued forth, and that the owner was anxious to claim the right of following, even though it should alight on a neighbour's premises. It would be curious to trace how this ancient ceremony has thus got corrupted from the original design.