Nearly every joint of each leg is furnished with a comb of bristles, with which this pollen-dust is scraped off and transferred to the carrying-basket after being moistened by the tongue; while the hind-legs have each a complete, perfectly-fashioned curry-comb. Here the leg is widened and flattened, and covered on one side with nine or ten rows of short, strong spines, with which the bee scrapes her body just as a groom curry-combs a horse. At ordinary times she will carefully pack her load of pollen into its proper receptacles before returning to the hive, so that it shall be all ready for transference to the cells. At the cell-mouth she pushes each lump off by means of her other legs, leaving it to be rammed down into the cell by the store-keepers. No distinction is made here, every kind and colour of pollen being indiscriminately stored in the same cell; and when the cell is full, a thin layer of honey is smeared over all, to preserve it from the air. When, however, time presses, the bee will not stop to knead up the load, but will carry it home as it is, arriving in the hive smothered completely from head to foot as with gold-dust. Then the house-bees gather round her, soon scraping her free of her encumbrance, and she starts off again for another load. The fact that insects can walk on both upper and under surfaces apparently with equal ease, is none the less remarkable because we see it going on every day of our lives. Yet the fly, crawling up the window-glass, or running about on the ceiling, owes his power of topsy-turvy perambulation to a very ingenious device. This is well illustrated in the foot of a bee. She has a pair of short, strong double claws, which will take her securely over all but the smoothest and shiniest surfaces; and it is with these claws that bees form themselves into dense clusters and knots and cables within the hive, holding hand-to-hand, as it were, in all directions. But when there is nothing for the claw to hold by, another part of the foot comes into play. This is a soft, flexible pad, which is always covered by a thick, oily exudation. In walking, the bee puts her feet down three at a time, the pads adhering instantly they come into contact with the smooth surface. At the next step the other three pads come into play, while the first three are stripped off. But each foot is capable of attaching and detaching itself independently of its fellows. In this case the stripping is accomplished by downward pressure of the claws of the same foot.