The Nature of Bees

As I walked along the path this morning picking flowers, I found in the yellow heart of a Lady Slipper a little brown bee. My first impulse was to shake him out of his honeyed abode, but as I looked at his velvety body and the sunlit rainbow wings, a foolish tenderness surged over me. Perhaps there were baby bees at home that would starve if papa bee did not bring back honey; and how useful this little creature was, carrying the pollen from flower to flower -so I moved on, leaving him unmolested. But even as I turned away thinking these pure, sweet thoughts, the doggone thing stung me. -Anon.