for me. All that I know is, that they call them honey bees because
they make honey. They also make wax; and I have often seen them
carry away little balls of the dust of flowers. Whether they make it
afterwards into honey or wax, is their business. You have only to
ask them."

Piccolissima meant to do this as soon as she had courage. Meanwhile,
she rubbed in her fingers the dust of the lily, yellowed the end of
her nose in smelling of it, her lips in tasting of it, still without
finding in it the consistency of wax, or the taste of honey.

"How do the flies do it?" said she. "I have tasted at the bottom of
the tube of a honeysuckle, or of a jasmine, something more like
honey than this powder." While speaking, she was going to her bread
and honey, when she perceived some one had got the start of her. A
number of bees were on the edge of it, and were so busily employed
that Piccolissima had an opportunity of examining them closely
without fear of disturbing them. It was a pleasure to see them. From
under their chins protruded, as far as their teeth, a little case
of shell, opening with two little leaves, whence projected a second
little case, polished and shining, half open, from which was thrust
a transparent tongue, covered with hairs. This tongue was stretched
out and plunged into the honey, and was then moved round and round
and soaked in it; soon it was contracted, and now again it became
larger; the insect seemed to enjoy all these various movements.
Through the hairs and the opening pores, Piccolissima saw the liquid
ascend; and between the teeth of the bee, above its admirable trunk,
she saw a pretty large mouth open to receive the honey.

The little observer was willing to give up all her breakfast to the