that these had been bees, Napoleon appropriated them for the
imperial badge. Henceforth "Napoleonic bees" appeared on his
coronation robe and wherever a heraldic emblem could be employed.

But even in the meadows of France Napoleon need not have looked
far from the fleurs-de-lis growing there to find bees. Indeed,
this gorgeous flower is thought by scientists to be all that it
is for the bees' benefit, which, of course, is its own also.
Abundant moisture, from which to manufacture nectar - a prime
necessity with most irises - certainly is for our blue flag. The
large showy blossom cannot but attract the passing bee, whose
favorite color (according to Sir John Lubbock) it waves. The bee
alights on the convenient, spreading platform, and, guided by the
dark veining and golden lines leading to the nectar, sips the
delectable fluid shortly to be changed to honey. Now, as he
raises his head and withdraws it from the nectary, he must rub it
against the pollen-laden anther above, and some of the pollen
necessarily falls on the visitor. As the sticky side of the plate
(stigma), just under the petal-like division of the style, faces
away from the anther, which is below it in any case, the flower
is marvelously guarded against fertilization from its own pollen.
The bee, flying off to another iris, must first brush past the
projecting lip of the over-arching style, and leave on the
stigmatic outer surface of the plate some of the pollen brought
from the first flower, before reaching the nectary. Thus
cross-fertilization is effected; and Darwin has shown how
necessary this is to insure the most vigorous and beautiful
offspring. Without this wonderful adaptation of the flower to the
requirements of its insect friends, and of the insect to the
needs of the flower, both must perish; the former from hunger,