It is my bees, however, which afford me the most pleasing and
extensive themes; let me look at them when I will, their government,
their industry, their quarrels, their passions, always present me
with something new; for which reason, when weary with labour, my
common place of rest is under my locust-tree, close by my bee-house.
By their movements I can predict the weather, and can tell the day
of their swarming; but the most difficult point is, when on the
wing, to know whether they want to go to the woods or not. If they
have previously pitched in some hollow trees, it is not the
allurements of salt and water, of fennel, hickory leaves, etc., nor
the finest box, that can induce them to stay; they will prefer those
rude, rough habitations to the best polished mahogany hive. When
that is the case with mine, I seldom thwart their inclinations; it
is in freedom that they work: were I to confine them, they would
dwindle away and quit their labour. In such excursions we only part
for a while; I am generally sure to find them again the following
fall. This elopement of theirs only adds to my recreations; I know
how to deceive even their superlative instinct; nor do I fear losing
them, though eighteen miles from my house, and lodged in the most
lofty trees, in the most impervious of our forests. I once took you
along with me in one of these rambles, and yet you insist on my
repeating the detail of our operations: it brings back into my mind
many of the useful and entertaining reflections with which you so
happily beguiled our tedious hours.

After I have done sowing, by way of recreation, I prepare for a
week's jaunt in the woods, not to hunt either the deer or the bears,
as my neighbours do, but to catch the more harmless bees. I cannot
boast that this chase is so noble, or so famous among men, but I
find it less fatiguing, and full as profitable; and the last