bees thus entrapped in a single umbel of blossoms, having
been exhausted in their struggles for escape; and a search among the
flowers at any time will show the frequency of this fatality, the
victims including gnats, flies, crane-flies, bugs, wasps, beetles, and
small butterflies. In every instance this prisoner is found dangling by
one or more legs, with the feet firmly held in the grip of the fissure.

Almost any bee which we may catch at random upon a milkweed gives
perfect evidence of his surroundings, its toes being decorated with the
tiny yellow tags, each successive flower giving and taking, exchanging
compliments, as it were, with his fellows. Ordinarily this fringe can
hardly prove more than an embarrassment; but we may frequently discern
an individual here and there which for some reason has received more
than his share of the milkweed's compliments. His legs are conspicuously
fringed with the yellow tags. He rests with a discouraged air upon a
neighboring leaf, while honey, and even wings, are seemingly forgotten
in his efforts to scrape off the cumbersome handicap.

[Illustration]

An interesting incident, apropos of our embarrassed bee, was narrated to
me by the late Alphonso Wood, the noted botanist. He had received by
mail from California a small box containing a hundred or more dead bees,
accompanied by a letter. The writer, an old bee-keeper, had experience,
and desired enlightenment and advice. The letter stated that his bees
were "dying by thousands from the attacks of a peculiar fungus." The
ground around the hive was littered with the victims in all stages of
helplessness, and the dead insects were found everywhere at greater
distances scattered around his premises. It needed only a casual glance
at the encumbered insects to see the nature of the malady. They were
laden two or three pairs deep, as it were, with the pollen masses of a
milkweed. The botanist wrote immediately to his anxious correspondent,
informing him, and suggesting as a remedy the discovery and destruction
of the mischievous plants, which must be thriving somewhere in his
neighborhood. A subsequent letter conveyed the thanks of the bee-keeper,
stating that the milkweeds--a whole field of them--had been found and
destroyed, and the trouble had immediately ceased. I am not aware that
Mr. Wood ever ascertained the particular species of milkweed in this
case. It is not probable that our Eastern species need ever seriously
threaten