er end of the house. The magnetised outfit is fastened on the
thorax; and the insect is let go. The moment she is free, the Bee drops
to the ground and rolls about, like a mad thing, on the floor of the
room. She resumes her flight, flops down again, turns over on her side,
on her back, knocks against the things in her way, buzzes noisily,
flings herself about desperately and ends by darting through the open
window in headlong flight.
What does it all mean? The magnet appears to have a curious effect on my
patient's system! What a fuss she makes! How terrified she is! The Bee
seemed utterly distraught at losing her bearings under the influence of
my knavish tricks. Let us go to the nests and see what happens. We have
not long to wait: my insect returns, but rid of its magnetic tackle. I
recognize it by the traces of gum that still cling to the hair of the
thorax. It goes back to its cell and resumes its labours.
Always on my guard when searching the unknown, unwilling to draw
conclusions before weighing the arguments for and against, I feel doubt
creeping in upon me with regard to what I have seen. Was it really
the magnetic influence that disturbed my Bee so strangely? When she
struggled and kicked on the floor, fighting wildly with both legs and
wings, when she fled in terror, was she under the sway of the magnet
fastened on her back? Can my appliance have thwarted the guiding
influence of the terrestrial currents on her nervous system? Or was her
distress merely the result of an unwonted harness? This is what remains
to be seen and that without delay.
I construct a new apparatus, but provide it with a short straw in place
of the magnet. The insect carrying it on its back rolls on the ground,
kicks and flings herself about like the first, until the irksome
contrivance is removed, taking with it a part of the fur on the thorax.
The straw produces the same effects as the magnet, in other words,
magnetism had nothing to do with what happened. My invention, in both
cases alike, is a cumbrous tackle of which the Bee tries to rid herself
at once by every possible means. To look to her for normal actions so
long as she carries an apparatus, magnetized or not, upon her back is
the same as expecting to study the natural habits of a Dog after tying a
kettle to his tail.
The experiment with the magnet is impracticable. What would it tell us
if the insect consented to it? In my opinion, it would tell us nothing.
In the ma
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