“Now I will tell a story. Once upon a time there was a large hive under an apple tree. A hedge sheltered it from the wind, and the tree shaded it from the sun, which made it very pleasant for the family who lived there. It was a very large family, for there were thousands and thousands of members, but they lived together in peace, each doing her own share of work. Of course there was a queen. She had a long, slender body and short wings. This did not matter, for she had only flown from the hive once, and then she had a bodyguard of drones. Maybe you think that because she was a queen she had nothing to do. It is true, she was not obliged to gather honey, make wax, clean house, nurse the children, or anything of that sort, but she was kept busy laying eggs. She laid thousands every day.” Ruth opened her eyes wide. “Think of it, Belinda!” she said. “Thousands of eggs a day! Just suppose she was a hen.” “She is something far more important,” answered Miss Apis, “and her eggs are of much more consequence. Besides the queen there were drones and workers in this big family. The drones did no work at all, though they were large and thick-bodied. Indeed, all they seemed fit for was to fly with the queen when she took her one trip abroad, and to eat what the workers gathered.” “See here!” said a drone from the back of the assembly. “I am getting tired of being called lazy. I should like to say right here that we drones haven’t any honey sac nor any pollen baskets, not even a pollen brush, like Mrs. Carpenter Bee, so how can we gather pollen or honey? Besides, we haven’t any sting to defend ourselves with.” “We will not argue the point,” said Miss Apis, “but go on to the workers, who formed the largest part of the colony. They were hatched to work, and they were willing to work until they died. They had strong wings, lots of eyes, and three stomach sacs.” “Well, I can’t see any use in so many stomachs,” said Mrs. Horntail, and Ruth agreed with her, though she did not say so. “You would if you were a bee,” said Miss Apis, mildly. “You see, or maybe you don’t, that eating honey, and just swallowing it, are two different things. When a bee just swallows honey it passes through the strainer, or fine hairs, in the first sac, so that every speck of pollen may be taken out, and into the second one, where it remains until the bee is ready to unswallow it in the hive. But when a bee wishes to eat this honey it passes on into the third sac, or the real stomach, and is digested.” “Well, I am sorry I spoke,” said Mrs. Horntail, “for I certainly do not enjoy these details.”