They cleared the cruiser end to end, From conning-tower to hold. They fought as they fought in Nelson's fleet; They were stripped to the waist, they were bare to the feet, As it was in the days of old. It was the sinking Clampherdown It was the crew of the Clampherdown On a cruiser won from an ancient foe, RUDYARD KIPLING. THE LAW OF AUTHORITY AND OBEDIENCE A FINE young Working Bee left his hive, one lovely summer's morning, to gather honey from the flowers. The sun shone so brightly, and the air felt so warm, that he flew a long, long distance, till he came to some gardens that were very beautiful and gay; and there having roamed about, in and out of the flowers, buzzing in great delight, till he had so loaded himself with treasures that he could carry no more, he be thought himself of returning home. But, just as he was beginning his journey, he accidentally flew through the open window of a country house, and found himself in a large dining room. There was a great deal of noise and confusion, for it was dinner time, and the guests were talking rather loudly, so that the Bee became quite frightened. Still, he tried to taste some rich sweetmeats, which lay temptingly in a dish on the table, when all at once he heard a child exclaim with a shout, "Oh, there's a bee, let me catch him!" on which he rushed hastily back to the open air (as he thought). But, alas! poor fellow, in another second he found that he had flung himself against a hard, transparent wall! In other words, he had flown against the glass panes of the window, being quite unable, in his alarm and confusion, to distinguish the glass from the opening by which he had entered. R This unexpected blow annoyed him very much; and having wearied himself in vain attempts to find the entrance, he began to walk slowly and quietly up and down the wooden frame at the bottom of the panes, hoping to recover both his strength and composure. Presently, as he was walking along, his attention was attracted by hearing the soft half-whispering voices of two children, who were kneeling down and looking at him. Said one to the other: "This is a working bee, Sister; I see the pollen bags under his thighs. Nice fellow! how busy he has been!" "Does he make the pollen and honey himself?" whispered the Girl. "Yes, he gets them from the insides of the flowers. Don't you remember how we watched the bees once dodging in and out of the crocuses, how we laughed at them because they were so busy and fussy, and how handsome their dark coats looked against the yellow leaves? I wish I had seen this fellow loading himself to-day. But he does more than that. He builds the honeycomb, and does nearly everything. He's a working bee, poor wretch!” "What is a working bee? and why do you call him Poor wretch,' Brother?" 6 Why, don't you know, Uncle Collins says that all people are poor wretches who work for other people who don't work for themselves? And that is just what this bee does. There is the queen bee in the hive, who does nothing at all but sit at home, give orders, and coddle the little ones; and all the bees wait upon her, and obey her. Then there are the drones-lazy fellows who lounge all their time away. And then there are the working bees, like this one here, and they do all the work for everybody. How Uncle Collins would laugh at them, if he knew! " "Doesn't Uncle Collins know about bees?" 66 No, I think not. It was the gardener who told me. And, besides, I think Uncle Collins would never have done talking about them, and quizzing them, if he once knew they couldn't do without a queen. I heard him say yesterday, that kings and queens were against nature, for nature never makes |