thought of it, and am completely tired out in the chace they have given me."

"Now, then, I hope you will acknowledge that your beauty is no real advantage to you," replied the Bee, "but till you are recovered I will visit yonder beautiful acasia which seems to court my notice; besides, I am not without a hope that from it I shall see my ardently desired home; I seem to remember its being near it."

Our airy traveller spoke this with peculiar animation, but on reaching the tree, his pleasure was still higher, for, from thence, he beheld the spot he was in pursuit of; although many hives were near it, he could distinguish his own from all the rest by a thousand little marks known only to those who inhabit it. His heart beat with transport; it appeared to him the abode of peace and plenty, and it was within his reach also; the flower on which he had rested was entirely disregarded, and he stood gazing on the well known spot, "stung with the thoughts of home."

The endearments of his mother returned to his mind with double force, nor could he fear being well received by her, and if by her, all the rest he knew dared not use him differently; "I will acknowledge my disobedience to her commands," said he, "and when she knows what I have gone through she will forgive me; I shall again receive her commendations, and repose myself under her mild and equitable government."

With these thoughts he could scarcely forbear flying away, and rushing at once into the presence of his friends; but he recollected the poor Butterfly, and though there was nothing in their natures which could assimilate, he still remembered that in a great measure he owed his present health and strength to him; "when first we met," continued he, "there was nothing in me to induce his affection; I was poor, sick, and helpless, and yet he was interested for me, and shall I leave him now? no, I will return and tell him what I have seen, and that though for the future I shall reside with more suitable associates, we may still often meet."

Thus determined, he hastened back, with all the liveliness of joy, to inform his friend, who observed his coming, and the cheerful air with which he approached; "I have seen my hive," cried the Bee, without giving him time to make the enquiry, "I have seen it! come, won't you go with me, and at least see the place to which I am going to return, and though I cannot ask you to enter with me, (none but bees being permitted to come in there) I shall never see you when I am out of it without pleasure."

"My dear friend," replied the Butterfly, "after the kindness you have shewn me this morning, it would be ungrateful not to rejoice in what gives you pleasure; I think I am now able to use my wings again, and will readily accompany you; and though I know I must stand at an humble distance while you enter, yet I shall be anxious to hear how you are received, and whether your old companions will forgive your leaving them."

"I have but the displeasure of one to fear," replied the Bee, "and if she forgives me, the rest have nothing to do with it, nor have I much to apprehend from that quarter, since the authority of a sovereign is tempered by the affection of a parent."

Thus conversing they pursued their flight till arriving at a short distance from the well-known hive, "Don't you see it?" said the Bee, fluttering his wings for joy; "don't you behold the welcome spot?"

"I see a number of hives," returned the Butterfly, not quite so enraptured as his friend, "but which is yours I cannot tell."

"Mark the one into which I fly," said the Bee, "and then you'll know it."

"But when shall I see you again?" enquired the Butterfly in a melancholy tone, on seeing his friend preparing for flight; "to-day?"

"Perhaps not," replied the other; "I may not be permitted to come out again, or I may be indulged with a day's rest, and conversation with my mother, but do not suffer yourself to doubt my friendship for you, because I do not fly out every hour and repeat my professions of it; to-morrow, at farthest, I shall renew my labours for the general good, and then if you like to accompany me in my flights, I shall be glad of your company."

With these words he stretched his wings, while the Butterfly bade him farewell, and watching his approach and entrance to the hive, resolved to hover round the place in hopes of learning what reception he had met with.

As the returning vagrant advanced towards the centre of all his hopes and fears, he felt the latter sensibly encrease, yet he could not but advance; at first he settled on the block upon which the hive was placed, every part of which was perfect in his recollection; he observed no one near, for as it was now the middle of the day, almost all were out, busily employed, except a few, whom he knew were always on the watch to keep out every intruder; at length he ventured within the hive, and immediately all the humming inmates which were then at home flocked around him; some concluded that he had mistaken his hive, while others imagined they could recollect his form and figure. "Do you not know me?" said he, "I once belonged to your fraternity, and my heart is still knit towards you."

On hearing an unusual murmur the mother queen appeared, with all her attendant train, to enquire who the bold intruder was? The way was cleared for her approach, and a solemn silence prevailed, while the stranger, with unfeigned humility, answered to the question. No sooner did her majesty know her returning child, than in one loud hum she expressed her satisfaction, and this was heard and attended to by all around, and presently the general voice was that he should be re-admitted.

"I am not returned unto you sick, or unable to work," replied the delighted Bee, after he had expressed his thanks for their generous reception of him; and then related to his attentive and sympathyzing parent all he had gone through since he had so rashly left the hive, whilst the rest waited till the close of the day before they indulged their curiosity by hearing it, nor did he forget to acknowledge that it was to the attention of a Butterfly that he owed his life.

"A Butterfly," returned the queen, whose dignity felt hurt that any of her race should be indebted to so trifling a creature, "sure you must have been sunk very low indeed, to need the assistance of a Butterfly."

"I have learnt, my dear mother," replied the young one, "that there is no creature, however mean, but may be of service some time or other; the Butterfly is well aware of the great difference there is between us."

"And sensible, I hope, of the honour done him, in being permitted to assist a Bee?" rejoined the mother.

This important affair being settled, though not entirely to the satisfaction of the queen, who while she forbore to say more upon the subject, resolved narrowly to watch the conduct of her son, fearing he would gain too much of the frivolity of the Butterfly if he long associated with him: and after shewing him a cell in which he might for the future reside, she left him to prepare it for his reception.

CHAP. IV.