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 before. And some of the workers are builders and some are masons and some are dancers. It’s the dancers’ job, when the hive gets very hot inside, to dance and wave their wings until they start a breeze to cool the cells. And sometimes they dance the queerest dance for the white nymphs.

“That’s part of what I know about bees. I couldn’t tell all I know about them ’cause I can’t think of it all at once. There’s too much of it to tell right hot off the bat. But you can watch ’em in the observation hive and pretty quick you can see which cells have got the big, soft, white nymphs in them, and which ones have got the big fat drones, and which ones have the little workers, and the nurses, and the scouts, maybe. After what I’ve told you, you can see the old drones crawling around over the cells eating honey where they please, and being as dirty and mussy as ever they want to. Then you can see the workers go and clean up after them. You can see the cells where the eggs are being taken care of. You can see the cells that are being filled with honey. You can see the cells that have gold and red and purple pollen in for wax. Next time I come, I’m going to ask you about the figures that I told you, like the Bee Master asked me. You have to be ready and not make any mistakes, because if I can remember, a big man like you ought to remember!”

The little Scout stood up, pushed down the tail of the green shirt that seemed habitually to work up, tightened the belt buckle at the waist, and drew a deep breath.

“I don’t know as I’ve told you so very well. In there