bee
cannot fly, a bee must not live; and a bee knows it. The Wax-moth crept
forth, and caressed Melissa again.

"I see," she murmured, "that at heart you are one of Us."

"I work with the Hive," Melissa answered briefly.

"It's the same thing. We and the Hive are one."

"Then why are your feelers different from ours? Don't cuddle so."

"Don't be provincial, Carissima. You can't have all the world
alike--yet."

"But why do you lay eggs?" Melissa insisted. "You lay 'em like a
Queen--only you drop them in patches all over the place. I've watched
you."

"Ah, Brighteyes, so you've pierced my little subterfuge? Yes, they are
eggs. By and by they'll spread our principles. Aren't you glad?"

"You gave me your most solemn word of honour that they were not eggs."

"That was my little subterfuge, dearest--for the sake of the Cause.
Now I must reach the young." The Wax-moth tripped towards the fourth
brood-frame where the young bees were busy feeding the babies.

It takes some time for a sound bee to realize a malignant and continuous
lie. "She's very sweet and feathery," was all that Melissa thought, "but
her talk sounds like ivy honey tastes. I'd better get to my field-work
again."

She found the Gate in a sulky uproar. The youngsters told off to the
pillars had refused to chew scrap-wax because it made their jaws ache,
and were clamouring for virgin stuff.

"Anything to finish the job!" said the badgered Guards. "Hang up, some
of you, and make wax for these slack-jawed sisters."

Before a bee can make wax she must fill herself with honey. Then she
climbs to safe foothold and hangs, while other gorged bees hang on to
her in a cluster. There they wait in silence till the wax comes. The
scales are either taken out of the maker's pockets by the workers, or
tinkle down on the workers while they wait. The workers chew them (they
are useless unchewed) into the all-supporting, all-embracing Wax of the
Hive.

But now, no sooner was the wax-cluster in position than the workers
below broke out again.

"Come down!" they cried. "Come down and work! Come on, you Levantine
parasites! Don't think to enjoy yourselves up there while we're sweating
down here!"

The cluster shivered, as from hooked fore-foot to hooked hind-foot it
telegraphed uneasiness. At last a worker sprang up, grabbed the lowest
waxmaker, and swung, kicking above her companions.

"I can make wax too!" she bawled. "Give me a full gorge and I'll make
tons