l sometimes, in their eagerness,
come about the boiling-place and be overwhelmed by the steam and the
smoke. But bees appear to be more eager for bread in the spring than
for honey: their supply of this article, perhaps, does not keep as well
as their stores of the latter; hence fresh bread, in the shape of new
pollen, is diligently sought for. My bees get their first supplies from
the catkins of the willows. How quickly they find them out! If but one
catkin opens anywhere within range, a bee is on hand that very hour to
rifle it, and it is a most pleasing experience to stand near the hive
some mild April day and see them come pouring in with their little
baskets packed with this first fruitage of the spring. They will have
new bread now; they have been to mill in good earnest; see their dusty
coats, and the golden grist they bring home with them.

When a bee brings pollen into the hive he advances to the cell in which
it is to be deposited and kicks it off, as one might his overalls or
rubber boots, making one foot help the other; then he walks off without
ever looking behind him; another bee, one of the indoor hands, comes
along and rams it down with his head and packs it into the cell, as the
dairymaid packs butter into a firkin with a ladle.

The first spring wild-flowers, whose sly faces among the dry leaves and
rocks are so welcome, are rarely frequented by the bee. The anemone,
the hepatica, the bloodroot, the arbutus, the numerous violets, the
spring beauty, the corydalis, etc., woo all lovers of nature, but
seldom woo the honey-loving bee. The arbutus, lying low and keeping
green all winter, attains to perfume and honey, but only once have I
seen it frequented by bees.

The first honey is perhaps obtained from the flowers of the red maple
and the golden willow. The latter sends forth a wild, delicious
perfume. The sugar maple blooms a little later, and from its silken
tassels a rich nectar is gathered. My bees will not label these
different varieties for me, as I really wish they would. Honey from the
maple, a tree so clean and wholesome, and full of such virtues every
way, would be something to put one's tongue to. Or that from the
blossoms of the apple, the peach, the cherry, the quince, the
currant,--one would like a card of each of these varieties to note
their peculiar qualities. The apple-blossom is very important to the
bees. A single swarm has been known to gain twenty pounds in weight
during its con