Columbine keeps two, one for bees and one for butterflies.

[It is part of Alice's regret, for which she keeps a nearly secret
sigh, that we couldn't have real bees and butterflies. She thinks it
would be so jolly to see the bees and butterflies go among the audience
and settle on the buttonholes and sprays they wear and bring back the
sense of gardens to the people there.

Uncle, do you know how Clown told me how to tell the difference?

UNCLE EDWARD. You minx!

ALICE. Put your hand into the butterfly hive, and if they sting you, you
know it's the bees.

UNCLE EDWARD. Did he? Well, go on and tell them the rest.

ALICE. Yes. Columbine has run away again. The story's always got to be
that. Either Columbine runs away from somebody, or somebody runs away with
her. That's because the soul is always struggling to be free. This time
Cousin Clown and Uncle Pantaloon helped her. She could twist them round her
little finger. And she made a great mistake in running away with this very
sham-serious young man.

UNCLE EDWARD. Sham-serious?

ALICE. He only thinks he's serious because he reads books all day long. And
she married him, and he's turned out to be most awfully dull. And I'm most
awfully sorry for her. He treats her like a bit of furniture. Isn't
it funny the way the soul will fall in love ... and with the most