“Patience! First of all let us see how the cells are constructed. The bee that feels that it is supplied with the materials for making wax rubs itself and extracts a sheet of wax from the folds of its rings. With the little layer of wax between its teeth, that is to say between its two mandibles, it squeezes through the press of its comrades. ‘Let me pass,’ it seems to say; ‘see, I have something to work with.’ The crowd makes way. The bee takes its place in the middle of the workyard. The wax is kneaded between its mandibles, pounded to pieces, then flattened out into a ribbon, pounded again, and once more kneaded into a compact mass. At the same time it is impregnated with a kind of saliva that gives it flexibility. When the material is at the proper stage, the bee applies it bit by bit. To cut off the surplus, the mandibles serve as scissors; the antennæ, in continual motion, serve it as probe and measuring-compasses; they feel the wall of wax to judge of its thickness; they plunge into the cavity to find out its depth. What exquisite touch in this pair of living compasses, to bring to successful completion a construction so delicate and regular! Moreover, if the worker is a novice, master-bees are there to watch it with an experienced eye, to seize on the slightest fault at once and hasten to remedy it. The maladroit worker modestly steps aside and watches in order to learn. The trick learned, it sets to work again. With thousands of wax-bees working together, a comb two or three decimeters wide is often a day’s work.” “You told us,” said Claire, “that the cells are especially remarkable for their geometrical arrangement.” “I am just coming to that magnificent topic, but I shall treat it briefly, I warn you. You are far from being able to follow yet in its superior beauties the architecture of the bees. Yes, my dear Jules, the wax house of a poor insect, to be well understood, demands knowledge that very few persons possess. Ah, you may study ever so long before you are able fully to understand this marvel! For the present, here is what I will tell you. “The cells serve, some as store-rooms for the honey, others as nests for the little ones. They are made of wax, a material that the bees cannot procure in indefinite quantities. They must wait until the stomach sweats a little layer of it, and it forms very slowly, at the expense of the insect’s very substance. The bee builds with the materials of its own body, it impoverishes itself in sweating the wherewithal to construct the cells. You can judge from that how precious a thing wax is to the bees, and with what strict economy they must use it.