Part 3

This important affair being settled, though not entirely to the satisfaction of the queen, who while she forbore to say more upon the subject, resolved narrowly to watch the conduct of her son, fearing he would gain too much of the frivolity of the Butterfly if he long associated with him: and after shewing him a cell in which he might for the future reside, she left him to prepare it for his reception.

CHAP. IV.

"Think not that treachery can be just; "Take not informers' words on trust."

GAY.

As the winged inhabitants flocked towards home, laden with their honeyed store, the return of the wanderer was announced to each; and the labors of the day being ended, they all gathered round him to hear the account of his adventures.

In the mean time the Butterfly continued without the hive, not unpleasantly situated, as a number of flowers were about the place, had he not been yet in suspense respecting his friend, when, as he was just going to give up all hopes of meeting with him till the next morning, he had the pleasure of seeing him come out upon the block, in company with two or three other Bees. "Will he speak to me now, that _these_ are with him," thought the Butterfly, and he fluttered round the place, half afraid that he should find the promises of his friend forgotten; but not so, the Bee, (though perhaps he might feel a little at the opinion he judged would be formed by his present associates on seeing him speaking familiarly to one so much beneath them,) flew towards him, to tell him he had been well received, directing him to a place of safety in which he might pass the night; "to-morrow," said he, "we shall meet again."

The Butterfly was much pleased at this unexpected interview, and after thanking him for his attention, promised to join him in the morning. The Bee then returned to his companions, and the Butterfly retired to the place which had been pointed out to him, and from whence he could see the entrance of the hive, and watch the coming of his friend when they were next to meet.

I shall now proceed to acquaint my reader with the future travels of our two friends, and without attending to the minute occurrences of each day, enter at once upon those events which more particularly belong to my design. As soon as the sun was sufficiently above the earth, the inhabitants of the hive hastened forth, eager to pursue their daily task--

"Around, athwart, "Thro' the soft air the busy nations fly."

And among the first came our young adventurer, whom the Butterfly immediately prepared to accompany; though till he saw him a little separated from the others, he did not presume to approach. "How do you do, my friend?" said the Bee, as soon as he drew near; "are you inclined for a long flight to-day? I have now a double motive to work hard, having a wish to make up for my lost time, as well as to shew my sense of gratitude for the reception I have met with from the friends I am returned to."

"I am willing to accompany you," replied the Butterfly, "and am glad to see you in such spirits; but you are already eyeing some of those beautiful flowers, and while you are engaged with them I will visit the nearest cottage, and return before you have finished your task."

"That's right," replied the Bee, "and tell me if you find the inhabitants as well, or as busily employed, as I am going to be."

The Butterfly departed, and on entering the window of the humble dwelling, he perceived a woman sweeping out the lower room, "which served them for parlour, kitchen, and hall," and preparing the breakfast; three or four children were entrusted to the care of another somewhat older than themselves, and who was endeavouring to keep the little ones from entering, and interrupting their mother. The Butterfly was unnoticed by the woman, but no sooner did the children see it, who (like all others, wanting what is denied them,) were peeping in at the door and enquiring when they might come in, than a little boy begged to enter, promising to catch it in a minute, and his entreaties at last prevailed, though he did not find it quite so easy to take the nimble creature as he had fancied. He had again and again to watch its settling, and to experience disappointment in his endeavour to secure it; while the rest of the little ones were at the door eagerly looking on, and the mother sometimes fretting, and sometimes laughing at his fruitless efforts; when all at once the eldest girl gave notice of her father's approach to breakfast.

No sooner was this intelligence heard, than the Butterfly was suffered to rest in quiet; the mother declared that "nothing was ready;" she scolded the child and blamed herself for being so foolish as to be stopped in the middle of her work by the chacing of a Butterfly, and before any thing was in proper order the _master_ entered, who by his rough voice and peremptory manner seemed determined to keep up the authority of that title. While he was grumbling at not finding his breakfast ready, and his children standing silent around the table, the Butterfly, happy to escape, extended his wings, and returned to his companion, whom he found still employed at his accustomed task.

"Well, what discoveries have you made," enquired the Bee, "have you seen any one so busy as me?"

"_One_ was," replied the Butterfly, laughing, "till I put an end to her work; a little humoured brat of a boy was suffered to enter into the midst of it, and hunt me from one side of the room to the other, and this foolish pursuant took the attention of the woman, who stood with the broom in her hand, admiring the dexterity of her aukward cub, I suppose, till the approach of the father was announced; then the scene was entirely changed, the hunt was given over, and she was cross with herself and every one else because she had been interrupted, which after all was her own fault; the man came in still more out of humour, and thus the house which at your first entrance you might have imagined the abode of peace and domestic comfort, was made directly otherwise; and _my harmless_ visit, I dare say, they would say was the cause of it; when to a reasonable observer it would be plain that the whole of his disturbance arose from the wayward fancy of the child, the indulgence of the mother, and the ill temper of the father: however, such is my happy lot, having wings, I could fly away from all their troubles, but those are to be pitied who cannot escape them."

"During your absence," said the Bee, "I have seen two friends in this garden, who appeared so happy in the society of each other that I am anxious to see more of them, such friendship being rather rare among the human race, and as soon as I have carried home this load of honey, I intend to visit the house I saw them enter."

"Do, do," replied the Butterfly, pleased to find his friend could attend to any thing besides his work, "and while you are thus engaged, I will amuse myself with an old acquaintance or two whom I see yonder." With these words they parted for a little while, promising to meet again in the same place, and to which the Bee returned long before the fluttering Butterfly, who had flown to a neighbouring field, and there among the daisies and king-cups with which the ground was nearly covered, he continued with his former associates nearly the whole morning, idly chacing each other in airy rounds till he had almost forgot the engagement he had made, and was still less inclined to regret his living an idle life. "I am not born to work," said he, "and if the place I fill in the world is not of such importance as my friend's, as a Butterfly I have an equal right to live, and to follow my own inclination;" he therefore returned to meet him without an apology for being behind the time, and on finding him busily employed, and nearly ready to take home another load, "what," said he, "you could not leave your favorite work to make your intended visit? surely you are too intent in gathering that food which I fear you will never be allowed to enjoy?"

"You are mistaken," replied the Bee, "I have been, and seen the two ladies, but they are no longer friends." Oh what fickle creatures these men and women are! young and old, they are all changeable alike. One was sitting at an open window, and the other walking up and down the room apparently much distressed; "what not one word?" said she to the other; "I did not mean to offend you."

No answer was returned, and she continued to express her sorrow, which was received with the utmost indifference; at length she made another attempt, and offering her hand to her offended friend, she said, "Come, Charlotte, will you not be reconciled?"

This also was equally disregarded, and the feelings of the poor offender seemed entirely altered; she no longer solicited forgiveness, but left the room, saying, "It is not necessary for me to acknowledge more; you do not treat me like a friend; talk no more of your regard for me."

As soon as she was gone the other began singing, as loudly as she could raise her voice, though the words she uttered now, so far from being in unison with her mind, as expressed in her countenance, that I could not help smiling; they were descriptive of content and self-satisfaction, neither of which I think _she_ could at that time feel.

On leaving her, and entering another window, I was sorry to see the one I had been interested for in earnest conversation with a third person, who, pitying her dejected and melancholy appearance, asked if she might not attribute it to the ill humour of her friend, and while her mind was thus hurt with the treatment she had received, drew from her a complaint which perhaps she would not have made at any other time. "She does not deserve your regard," said the stranger, "and you give up too much to her;--if you continue to do so, she will by and bye expect you to say or do nothing but as she directs; and her friendship for you can never be real if she requires such subjection."

"These are very odd things," observed the Butterfly; "we poor insignificant creatures never have any thing of this sort; if we associate together, we do not spend our time in complaining of each other."

"I have not done with them yet," returned the Bee, "but mean to pay them another visit, and I fancy shall see still more reason to conclude that these wonderful creatures, whom the animal race hold in such respect, are not so steady and constant in their conduct and pursuits as either they, or we, the still meaner insect tribes, are, though I must say those of the latter order are not in so much awe of them. We do not fly from them if they come in our way, but in many things consider them as subservient to us, and that which _they_ look upon as exclusively their own, and which a cat or a dog would not venture to touch, _we_ have most likely made many a meal from before it comes to their table."

A few days after this, the Bee renewed his visit, as he had proposed, and there was astonished to see the very same third person now engaged with the other lady, and relating to her with many exaggerations all that her offending friend had repeated to her, while smarting under the effect of her ill humour, though all the pains she took to draw it out of her, and the encouragement with which she listened to her complaint, were entirely omitted in the recital. "Only think of this," said the Butterfly, on hearing an account of his friend's second visit. "Is this the use they make of the power of speech, and which they imagine sets them so completely above the animals? surely they had better be without it, than use it to such a purpose; but what will be the end of this? will not the eyes of the two friends be opened, think you? and they will leave the acquaintance of that mean incendiary, who, under such a show of friendship, endeavours to widen the breach between them?"

"Perhaps not," replied the Bee. "Their conduct may yet want that consistency; I hope they will be reconciled to each other, but I doubt whether they will give up this perfidious acquaintance, though the more their regard for each other increases, the more must their contempt for her be increased. I question, also, if the tale _she_ has this day told will not rankle in the breast of the hearer for many future years, and whether there will ever again be that mutual confidence in the two friends which once appeared."

The next house they saw, the Butterfly entered alone, as the Bee observed some flowers at a distance which appeared more worthy of his attention. While he was busily employed in extracting their sweets, his friend returned laughing, "Oh!" said he, "I wish you had been with me. Smile no more at the regard I shew to outward appearance; why there is a young man who is storming and raging about the house, because his neckcloths and shirts are not brought home so nicely as he expected, and he is throwing them from one end of the room to the other, while the poor woman, who has, perhaps, been working hard to make them what they are, stands trembling before him, as if she had committed the greatest trespass in the world. The beauty of my wings if once destroyed, is lost for ever, but these evils, if they are any, are soon remedied; and, at the next house," continued he, "is another instance of the vanity of the sex; _there_ is a boy who has got a new coat just brought home from the taylor's, and because the day is rather lowering, and his father won't let him wear it out, he is determined not to go out at all, and he is now sitting in his own room with the coat on, though there is no one but himself to admire it. I have seen females carry their fondness for dress as far as this," continued he, "but I thought men and boys were above such vanity; I declare I am half ashamed of them."

At this moment a heavy shower came on, and the Butterfly hastened to the shelter of a large leaf on a cucumber bed, where also the Bee was obliged to secure himself, nor could he take home the honey he had gathered till the rain had ceased.

On his return, he found the Butterfly just ventured from his retreat, and stretching his wings, he was enquiring of one of his own species, "if their colours had received any injury?"

The Bee heard the enquiry, and though he believed his friend would not have made it had he thought him within hearing, he was not now so inclined to laugh at him as formerly on account of it, "for," said he, "since I have heard such instances of vanity in a race so superior, I can forgive it in a Butterfly."

On finding that the drops still continued on the flowers, so as to prevent his gathering any thing from them, he determined to return to the hive, and there assist in forming some cells with the wax he had been busy in procuring, though the Butterfly was earnest in desiring him to take an afternoon's flight with him, "and enjoy a little pleasure."

The Bee smiled at what his friend called by that name; "my enjoyment is to be usefully employed," said he, "and to receive my mother's approbation; but as I know this is a pleasure _you_ cannot understand, I would not wish to deprive you of what you can enjoy; go, therefore, and take your fill of it while you may, and to-morrow perhaps we may meet again."

His friend departed with this encouragement, yet not able to comprehend why all creatures did not find a pleasure in the same thing, though to the eye of reason such a distinction of enjoyments in the various objects of creation, is an evident token of the Wisdom with which they are formed.

CHAP. V.

"If chance a mouse came in her sight, "She finely counterfeits a fright, "So sweetly screams if it come near her, "It ravishes all hearts to hear her."

SWIFT.

The next day the Bee had taken home two or three loads before his friend made his appearance, who, when he came, expressed his surprise at finding him where he was. "I have been in such a beautiful conservatory," said he, "and surely I saw _you_ there, almost buried in the heart of a flower; and so intent were you upon your labour, that you would not even answer me when I called; there must certainly have been something very attractive to have kept you there so long, but how you got here before me is what I most wonder at."

"I don't understand you," returned the Bee, "I have been in no conservatory, the utmost of my flights to-day have been from the hive to this place."

"And have you _really_ been no where else?" said the Butterfly in astonishment; "why I never saw anything so like you in my life; I concluded that you were so buried in the flower that you did not hear my call, or was unwilling to move, lest you should alarm some ladies and gentlemen who were very near you."

"I think I can tell what has deceived you," returned the Bee, "you have seen a Bee-Orchis, as they are called, a flower which bears both the form and resemblance of _our_ species. And so you really took it for _me_?"

"If it was _not_ yourself," replied the Butterfly, "and you wish to see your _own_ likeness, pray come with me, and behold it; for never did I see one Bee so like another, as that flower is like you."

"I have known many of our young ones who are not acquainted with it," said the Bee, "so deceived by the resemblance, that if they happen to meet with one, they pass it by, thinking, that one of their fellow-laborers is engaged there already; but if you will shew me the spot I will not be so put off."

So saying, he followed the Butterfly, who was immediately on the wing; and soon arrived at a very large house, one end of which formed the conservatory. The fragrancy of the flowers it contained, the great variety of them, and those of the most delicate nature, made the Bee clap his wings for joy.

"Why, my dear friend," said he, "you have brought me to a treasure-house indeed; a store of sweets, I can hardly forbear returning to call all my companions to share it with me; I am sure there would be work enough for the whole hive were they here."

While he was thus expressing his delight, the Butterfly was searching for the flower he had noticed before, hardly satisfied, till he had the testimony of his own eye-sight in seeing them together, that his friend had told him the truth; however, when he discovered it, and saw the Bee still flying about in admiration, he was obliged to acknowledge he had been wrong.

The Bee employed himself here for some hours, during which he had gone and returned from the hive several times, bringing with him a few of his companions, who were attracted by the account he gave of this charming place; the Butterfly also met with much to amuse him, and continued uninterruptedly to enjoy themselves, till, as the evening advanced, they resolved to visit some other part of the house, and the Butterfly led the way to the dining parlour, where some ladies and gentlemen were sitting after dinner, with a variety of fruits and wines before them. The attention of the Bee was immediately attracted by a very fine peach one of the ladies had just taken on her plate, and little thinking of the consequence of his temerity, he flew towards it: the lady screamed, and pushed back her chair, while the company eagerly enquired the cause.

"Oh, a Bee!" exclaimed she, "I am frightened to death if I see one."

"And I," said another, who sat opposite to her, "shall faint, if it comes near _me_; I really cannot bear it in the room."

At this moment the Bee, as if desirous of seeing whether she spoke truth or not, flew directly across the table, and alighted on her head.

"Oh where is it?" said she, jumping off her seat, "I am sure it is on me! dear Mr. Wippersnap," addressing the gentleman who sat next her, "for goodness sake take it off! what shall I do?"

While the other lady sat fanning to recover her alarm, and the rest of the party with anxious looks watched the motions of the bold intruder, the gentleman, proud of his superior courage, "begged them not to be alarmed, for he would destroy it in a moment;" and giving it a gentle touch to drive it from its present station, he began the attack with an open knife he held in his hand, professing that he would cut it asunder at one blow; his blows, however, were not so decisive, for though he aimed several, the Bee contrived to escape them all.

At this one or two other gentlemen, with more regard to the imaginary feelings of the ladies than to the reality of those belonging to the Bee, raised the same weapons in their defence, but all their efforts served only to exasperate the object of their rage, while the Butterfly sat trembling under the most cruel apprehensions for his friend's safety.

During this alarming battle the ladies were happy to leave the room; and no sooner were they retired than the fight was over, the weapons of war were laid aside, and the enraged Bee suffered to rest upon the table, and recruit his strength: his fierce opponents declared they were never so foiled before, till one, less courageous than the rest, wisely, as he thought, turned an empty wine glass over him, and thus was our unfortunate adventurer again in a close confinement. The Butterfly was now alarmed for his friend from another cause, and feared the want of air would be too much for him.

"Cruel monsters," said he to himself, as he observed the gentlemen draw their chairs closer to the table, and filling their glasses appeared determined to suffer no other interruption to their cheerfulness; "do they call themselves humane, who can leave a poor creature in that situation, and after they have cut and slashed at him in such a manner, that if their dexterity had been equal to their will, they would not have left a whole bone in his skin. Oh! that I had the sting of a thousand Bees, I would use them all to revenge his cause."

With these words he fluttered round the table, and viewed his friend (who lay motionless at the bottom of his transparent prison) on every side; "he will certainly die," thought he, "if he is not dead already. Oh my friend! would that I could release you! but the attempt would be fruitless."

The gentlemen were too agreeably engaged to observe the anxious Butterfly, who every time he saw them extend their hands towards the place, hoped some little compassion had touched their breasts, and that they were going to liberate his friend; but no such thing, the evening closed in, and he was yet in confinement, till the tea being announced, the gentlemen jumped up to attend the ladies, and soon after the servants entering to take away the bottle and glasses, give the poor prisoner an opportunity to escape. The window was still open, upon the edge of which sat the expecting Butterfly, but it was some time before the Bee, who had been insensible the greatest part of the time, could so far recollect himself as to know where he was, or who was waiting for him. On seeing him slowly crawling on the table, the Butterfly concluded he was too much hurt to fly, and coming towards him, with the utmost tenderness he said,

"Oh! my friend, are you not cruelly wounded?"

"Not so much as I expected," returned the Bee, greatly revived at the sight of his old companion. "I am very stiff from the blows I have received, but luckily my wings are not hurt; pray lead the way from this detested spot, and I will follow with the greatest pleasure."

With this request the Butterfly gladly complied, rejoicing to hear his friend speak so cheerfully, who was no sooner out of the house than he begged to rest upon a neighbouring tree.

"You have been very roughly handled," said his friend, "by these _superior_ sort of people; I had hoped better things of them, because they are called so, but I do not find their hearts are better, or their conduct towards us less reprehensible than those of a lower order; but why did you not use your sting, my friend? I think it then would have made even those courageous gentlemen sound a retreat."