CHAP. II.

  "Excuse me then if pride, conceit, "The manners of the fair, and great, "I give to monkeys, asses, dogs, "Fleas, owls, goats, _butterflies_, and hogs; "I say that these are proud; what then? "I never said they equal men."

  GAY.

  The Bee thus returned began to feel something like pleasure, and as themorning sun lighted the place in which he had been so long a prisoner,his hopes revived that he should yet feel a greater benefit from them.

  He had not room to move his wings freely, yet he thought them rathermore pliable, and creeping upon the branch of the tree which shaded theentrance of his habitation, he endeavoured to cleanse them from thedirt and stiffness which had incumbered them, and after repeatedlystroking his back with the little brushes with which Nature hadsupplied his feet, he succeeded, and was able to fly from his stationto a neighbouring flower.

  He had not forgotten the Butterfly, but he did not suppose that hewould remember him or his engagement of the preceding evening, butagain he had to acknowledge the mistake of prejudice, for he had notbeen long upon the flower, (made more sweet by his having found theuse of his wings to obtain it,) before he saw his friend approaching,flying through the air, and never fixing till he had found the spot onwhich he had left him.

  The loud humming of the Bee soon discovered that he was not far off,and the Butterfly hastening towards him, congratulated him on havingfound his liberty. "You are taking your breakfast," said he, "I giveyou joy of a fine morning," and after the kindest enquiries of howhe now found himself, he expressed his hope that he would be able toaccompany him to a field of cowslips which he had passed at a littledistance; "they smell so sweet, and look so beautiful," continued he,"hanging down their yellow heads, that though I certainly admire agreater variety of colours, I could not but be pleased with these, andhad I not wished for your company, could have flown from one to theother for some time; I am sure one day's feasting on their sweets willrestore you to perfect health; come, shall I lead the way?"

  "I cannot but be grateful for your solicitude," returned the Bee, "andthat you should so far forget your nature as to be anxious for me whoam of so different an one; I am able to fly but very slowly, if atall, and _you_ will like to extend your rambles much farther than Ican accompany you; do not, therefore, think of tying yourself to me."The Butterfly was evidently disappointed; "I know," said he, "thatour natures are different; I am not held in such high estimation asyourself, nor am I half so useful, or my life so long as your's; 'thecreatures but of a day,' is what we are generally called, yet that_day_ it is my wish to spend well, and as far as is in my power to beof benefit to another; if it was to one meaner than myself it would begratifying, but when I consider that it is to a _Bee_ that my servicesare useful, it is doubly so; why then will you deny me this pleasure?"

  The Bee could not but be struck with this singular proof of friendshipin one from whom he had not deserved it, and though he might beunwilling that any of his old companions should see him associatingwith one whom they were mostly inclined to treat with contempt, hecould no longer resist his importunity, and therefore promised toaccompany him to the place he had mentioned, and where he was amplyrecompenced by the delicious food he found there, for the fatiguingthough short flight he had taken to procure it, whilst the good-naturedButterfly was equally gratified by seeing his friend enjoy thefragrance he had introduced him to. "You will stay here all day," saidhe, "and by night I expect to see you strong and hearty; if you please,I will fly about a little, and perhaps shall be able to bring youintelligence of food for to-morrow, but promise me to remain here tillmy return."

  "Undoubtedly," replied the Bee, half lost in one of the sweet recesseshe was thus enjoying, "believe me I feel your kindness! If you had notvisited me last night, and encouraged my feeble efforts to move, Ishould have laid still and died, and all these bounties of Nature wouldhave been spread in vain for me; indeed, I am obliged to you, and feelthat though you may never be of such service to me again, I should besorry to lose your acquaintance."

  This acknowledgement was sufficient for the Butterfly, who flutteredabout in grateful joy, and in the course of the day made manyexcursions, from all of which he returned with good humour and kindenquiries; while the Bee continued to fly from flower to flower, andthough he was sometimes ready to regret that he had not a hive, towhich he could carry the produce of his labours, and receive thecommendations of his mother for so doing, he felt that he was yet tooweak to work to much advantage, and therefore tried to be content withwhat was necessary for himself.

  Several Bees came to this field of sweets, in which he was thusrevelling; but none of his old acquaintance were among them, and heforbore to speak to them; "though idle myself," said he, "I will notmake others so by engaging them in talk with me;" and indeed so anxiouswas he not to disgrace the character of what a Bee _should be_, thatif he thought any of them were noticing him, he would pretend to beearnestly at work also, lest they should suppose him an idle drone.

  In his next visit, the Butterfly brought him such intelligence as hethought would be agreeable to him; "We are in the land of plenty," saidhe, "every thing is flourishing, and innumerable flowers are everywhere to be seen."

  "I shall soon be able to visit them," returned the Bee, "and after onemore night's rest I shall almost forget that I have been ill; I havealready recovered my spirits, and my health will soon return."

  As they were thus talking, they observed a troop of children withbaskets in their hands, and an old man at their head, who seemed to bedirecting their steps to the field they were in.

  "These are some of my tormentors," said the butterfly, "though theyappear to admire me, and to wish me no harm, they are in reality mygreatest enemies; even the sound of their voices puts me in a fright:Oh! how sick I am of hearing them singing, "Butterfly, butterfly, cometo me," though you may be very sure I never accept their invitation;once I was shut up in a box for nearly a whole day by one of these_kind_ admirers, with a few green leaves for me to eat and sleep upon;and I suppose she thought she was doing me a very great favor toprocure me such a residence; but I was much more obliged to anotherlittle girl, who in her absence let me out of my confinement, and sincethat time I have been more than ever anxious to escape their notice."

  "I know nothing of an alarm of that sort," replied the Bee, "childrenare in general afraid of me, and I have sometimes been half inclined toregret it, though in reality I believe it is the best thing that couldhappen, but these," continued he, "if I am not mistaken, are going tobe otherwise employed than in admiring either you or me, for I think weshall see them gathering the flowers on which we have been feeding,"and this was actually the case, for as they entered the field, the oldman encouraged them to begin by promising that when the wine was madefor which these cowslips were to be gathered, they should all have aglass of it.

  "What devouring creatures are these men," observed the Bee, "every oneof these sweet flowers will be destroyed to make their wine; but theyare 'the Lords of the Creation,' and take away at one stroke what wouldsatisfy us more moderate creatures for months and months; but see, thechildren are coming, had you not better take to your wings?"

  "Not yet," replied the Butterfly, "they are going to be otherwiseengaged; 'tis when they are idle, or at play, that I have most reasonto be alarmed, and besides here are a great many more of my racefrisking about, though among ever so great a number, I am the mostadmired."

  The Bee smiled at this discovery of vanity in his friend, though hemade no reply, and as the children began clearing the field at theother end of it, they continued a little longer to enjoy the sweetsthey were so soon to be deprived of, till the shades of the eveningbegan to advance, when the Bee proposed returning home, and badeadieu to those charming flowers from which he had gathered health andstrength, and a sufficient stock of honey to take home with him.

  "Where do you repose for the night?" said he to his friend, "have youno settled place of abode, or do you rest
upon the first flower youmeet with?"

  "I generally pass the night under a green leaf, or in the cup of aflower," replied the Butterfly, "and may this evening find a place torepose in near _your_ habitation, if you have no objection."

  "I should be glad of your company within it," returned the Bee, "wereit large enough to admit us both, but what do you live upon? cannot youtaste some of the provision I am going to carry home? you shall be verywelcome."

  The Butterfly testified his thanks by a fluttering of his wings; "but Ido not particularly relish that food," said he, "and you would perhapswonder what it is we do eat, for it is no uncommon opinion that we liveupon air; however, in our reptile state, we make up for our littleeating now; were you to see the devastation we make in the vegetableworld, you would be surprised; three or four dozen of us will destroya bed of cabbages in an hour or two, and we often strip a shrub of allits leaves in the course of a morning."

  "And do you boast of this?" replied the Bee; "surely it is exulting inmischief."

  "It is our _nature_," returned the thoughtless Butterfly; "and whatis the mischief, as you call it, compared to that which men are dailydoing? do they not destroy us by thousands, whenever they have anopportunity? and why should _you_, of all others, plead for them, who,when you have spent your lives in their service, and procured forthem that food which they can obtain from no other quarter, burn anddestroy your hives and yourselves too? Oh! I have passed one of thesemonuments of their ungrateful cruelty, and seen the mangled remains ofyour fellow-creatures till my wings have quite trembled again, and yetyou never do them harm; they form your habitation, and encourage you tobuild in them by pretending to shelter you from all evil, yet after allthis fancied kindness, if they think you are too old to labour for themany longer, as a reward for all you have done, they set fire to yourhouses, and destroy thousands of you in the flames! talk no more ofmischief in eating a few cabbages, or devouring the leaves of a tree."

  "These are shocking truths," replied the Bee, "my blood runs cold tothink of it, and yet such is my nature that, though I know I am safefrom such devastations where I now am, I would rather add my laboursto the common stock of my native hive, could I but find the way toreturn to it, and share the fate of my fellow-labourers, if such a fateawaits them; but who knows that we may not escape? it is not every Beethat is thus destroyed."

  "Nature," returned his friend, "has armed you with a defensive weaponwith which I think you might soon repel your destroyers: but as for uspoor _Butterflies_, we can do nothing to defend ourselves."

  "'Tis true," returned the Bee, "we have this weapon, and we have oftenmade our enemies fly by using it; but you must know, such is theircunning cowardice, that they will not attack us on equal terms; theymust have the covert of the night for their cruel work, and when we areall in our hives, each enclosed in their waxen cell, they begin thehorrid massacre; I should feel it more, but that I believe they take asgreat delight in destroying each other as they do in killing us; forI have heard them rejoicing together that so many of the _enemy_ wereslain, and I know they mean their fellow men by _this_ appellation, forthey don't _dignify_ us with that title; their great enmity to insectsarises from what they destroy; and yet, in one day, they themselvesdevour more than any of them, but then they think every thing that canbe useful to them was only made for that purpose, and no one can saythey do not take care to make it fulfill that end, whatever else isleft undone."

  "But the question is, whether they have any right to destroy you, afterthat is done?" rejoined the Butterfly.

  "A question too hard for me to answer," returned the Bee; "but this Iknow, that we have a right to defend ourselves against them wheneverwe can; and I know also, that for the kindness you have shown me I'lldefend you from their attacks as long as I am able: but we are arrivedat my dwelling, let us rest upon this tree while the sun is taking itslast peep at the horizon."

  After refreshing themselves with a little of the honey the Bee hadbrought home, and of which the Butterfly just tasted a little, becausehe would not appear to refuse what was kindly meant, they parted forthe night, the Bee resolving to travel farther the next day, and, ifpossible, to find out his old habitation, though not without assuringthe Butterfly that if he should be so happy as to be re-admitted, itshould make no difference in his friendship for him.