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."

"I am very careful of extending that," replied the Bee, "as it is very seldom we can use it to any advantage without leaving it in the wound, and that in general is fatal to us; a gentle touch is sufficient in our defence, but here it would have had no effect but to enrage them still the more, and I must either have died by their hands, or soon afterwards by losing it; but what a fuss the ladies made at my approach, did they not? did you ever see any thing so foolish, as all to run away from my presence? Why many of their fellow-creatures, whom they judge inferior in education and ideas to themselves, would have been ashamed to have acted so."

"If you are inclined to put them to flight again," said the Butterfly, "I think I see the same party in the room above."

"No, I thank you," returned the Bee, "I must hasten to the hive as fast as my bruises will let me; they will be quite alarmed at my being out so late, or fancy that my old fondness for wandering is come on again, and I should be sorry that should be their opinion; besides," continued he, shrugging his shoulders, "I have had enough of the company of ladies and gentlemen for to-day, though no doubt I lost much entertaining conversation during my captivity."

"I believe not," replied the Butterfly, "for my part I heard them say very little else than "the bottle is with you Sir," and "let us have another;" and "will you give us a toast, Sir?""

"And is it thus these men of education converse together?" replied the Bee; "I am astonished at it, but were we to sit and talk of it the whole of the night we should not make them better; we will therefore go home; I have only to say that I am glad I have escaped their malice, and am obliged to you, my friend, for the affection which prompted you to stay for me;" and now extending their wings they soon arrived at the hive, which the Bee entered, and accounting for his late return received the congratulations of all his companions on his safety.

The Butterfly found a resting-place near it, and the next day met his friend with anxious enquiries of "how he found himself?" The Bee was still stiff, and felt too much of the ill effects of his last visit to wish to accompany him on another, at present, therefore he remained but just without the hive, and left the Butterfly to make 'the voyage of observation' by himself. In the evening, as they again met, he enquired into the result of his rambles.

"I am more and more astonished at the weakness of mortals," returned the Butterfly, "and am convinced that a fine lady will believe any thing, and will be pleased with the greatest nonsense, if said to her by way of compliment; though I have visited but one house to-day, and that was with one of my old acquaintance, with whom I flew about till we chaced each other into a spacious drawing-room, in which sat a young lady, who was endeavouring to lay the imitation of flowers upon a small table; I believe they call it painting, and it was nearly finished; a gentleman sat by her, and seemed to admire every stroke of her pencil, though for my part I could not see any thing so very admirable in it; the colours, to my eye, were put on very roughly, and I could not have thought he would have paid so ill a compliment to her understanding, as to suppose she would have believed him, when on our settling on them after we had sported round the room, he declared that we took them for natural flowers."

"And did she believe him?" asked the Bee.

"She smiled," returned the Butterfly, "and seemed very much pleased; and it is certain that she did not contradict him, though she soon drove us off again, fearing, I suppose, that we should discover the deception; but we had done that long before, and only fixt ourselves there because it was the nearest place to rest on. After this we flew out, and met with other companions, and I don't know how it was, but the day seemed gone before we were aware; however, we have enjoyed ourselves without interruption, and you, I hope, are better able to pursue what affords you pleasure, than when I left you in the morning?"

"I am recovering very fast," returned the Bee, "and it is quite necessary I should, for I believe a wonderful change is soon to take place in my circumstances, and you must not be surprised if you should not see me in this neighbourhood much longer."

"What do you mean?" enquired the Butterfly, half alarmed, though he knew not from what cause; "you are not going to hide yourself from me, are you?"

"No," returned the Bee; "our movements cannot be hid, we shall make noise enough about it, but I am not at liberty to disclose the secrets of the hive; to-morrow, perhaps, if you keep a good look-out, and the weather is fine, you may see what will unravel this mystery; in the meanwhile assure yourself of the continuance of my friendship, and do not think, after the attention I experienced from you last night, and on a former occasion, I can forget you."

With this assurance the Butterfly suffered his friend to depart without making any farther enquiry, and sheltering himself for the night under a large holly-hock, resolved not to let the sun arise without his awaking to observe the movements of the Bee, and his companions; and, if possible, to find out the meaning of what he had heard.