Some enterprising
person, taking a hint perhaps from the ancient Egyptians, who had
floating apiaries on the Nile, has tried the experiment of floating
several hundred colonies north on the Mississippi, starting from
New Orleans and following the opening season up, thus realizing a sort
of perpetual May or June, the chief attraction being the blossoms of
the river willow, which yield honey of rare excellence. Some of the
bees were no doubt left behind, but the amount of virgin honey secured
must have been very great. In September they should have begun the
return trip, following the retreating summer South.
It is the making of the wax that costs with the bee. As with the poet,
the form, the receptacle, gives him more trouble than the sweet that
fills it, though, to be sure, there is always more or less empty comb
in both cases. The honey he can have for the gathering, but the wax
he must make himself--must evolve from his own inner consciousness.
When wax is to be made the wax-makers fill themselves with honey and
retire into their chamber for private meditation; it is like some
solemn religious rite; they take hold of hands, or hook themselves
together in long lines that hang in festoons from the top of the hive,
and wait for the miracle to transpire.
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