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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Buzz A Buzz, by Wilhelm Busch.
+    </title>
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+
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+    .poem span.i4     {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Buzz a Buzz, by Wilhelm Busch
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Buzz a Buzz
+       or The Bees
+
+Author: Wilhelm Busch
+
+Translator: William Charles Cotton
+
+Release Date: February 16, 2012 [EBook #38902]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUZZ A BUZZ ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 625px;">
+<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="625" height="1024" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h1>BUZZ A BUZZ</h1>
+<h3>OR THE BEES</h3>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 100%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 620px;">
+<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="620" height="823" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h1><big>Buzz a Buzz</big><br />
+<small>or</small><br />
+<big>The Bees</big></h1>
+
+<h4>Done freely into<br />
+<big>English</big></h4>
+
+<p class="center">BY THE AUTHOR<br />
+OF MY BEE BOOK</p>
+
+
+<h4>from the German<br />
+<small>of</small><br />
+<big>Wilhelm Busch.</big></h4>
+
+<h5><span class="smcap">London</span>: GRIFFITH &amp; FARRAN.<br />
+<span class="smcap">Chester</span>: PHILLIPSON &amp; GOLDER.</h5>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 100%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'>iii.</span></p>
+<h2>Preface.</h2>
+
+<h3>EXPLANATORY.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="idt">I must say a few words in explanation of the somewhat novel form which
+my new "Bee-Book" has taken, and which, doubtless, will be a surprise to
+the many Bee-Friends who are waiting with exemplary patience for the
+second edition of my original "Bee-Book," soon about to appear after an
+interval of thirty years from the publication of the first edition.</p>
+
+<p class="idt">I happened last year to be at the Cologne Station, waiting for the
+train, and employed my spare time in looking over the book stall for
+something to read on my way to Aix-la-Chapelle. The stall was covered
+with books about the late War. I had returned from a visit to the Battle
+Fields of 1870, and was sick of the subject. I wanted something of a
+more peaceful nature, and I was turning away, without making a purchase,
+when a book met my eye entitled <i>Schnurrdiburr</i>. What that might mean I
+knew not, but the second title, <i>oder die Bienen</i>, was intelligible, and
+had attraction enough for me. I opened it, and saw it was profusely
+illustrated with very comical cuts. I paid my Thaler and carried away my
+prize.</p>
+
+<p class="idt">The cuts are reproduced in the book which my readers have in their
+hands. The verses were written up to the pictures rather than translated
+from the German text; for alas! my German is very limited; enough for travelling
+<span class='pagenum'>iv.</span>
+purposes, but hardly enough to enable me to read a Bee-Book
+either serious or comical.</p>
+
+
+<h4>RIDENTEM DICERE VERUM QUID VETAT?</h4>
+
+<p>There is much truth lying hid under these comical stories; still more in
+the illustrations; and the notes which I have appended may be found
+useful even by serious Bee-Masters.</p>
+
+<p class="idt">I promise my readers that they shall have the second edition of "<span class="smcap">My Bee
+Book</span>" as perfect as I can make it, and with as little delay as possible.</p>
+
+<p class="idt">I trust it may be much nearer perfection than the first edition,
+published under great difficulties, could be, and I hope it may have as
+many purchasers as this its forerunner.</p>
+
+<p style='text-align: right'>W. C. C.</p>
+<p>
+<i>Frodsham, Cheshire,</i><br />
+  <span style="margin-left: 4em;"><i>September, 1872.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 100%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'>v.</span></p>
+<h2><a name="Prelude" id="Prelude"></a>Prelude.</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="640" height="400" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hail Muse etc.! Bring me Peggy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My antient steed, now somewhat leggy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not him who on Parnassus green<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Erst fed, and drank of Hippocrene;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But such, as to supply the trade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Nuremburg by scores are made.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I mount him, and will now indite<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Bee-book for my own delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'll sing of Johnny Dull: his pig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made by his bees exceeding big;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of his daughter fair Christine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of her queer lover Dicky Dean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of his nephew rogue Eugene&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of honey-robbers I will tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bears, and bull-frogs, ghosts as well&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All which my readers may discover<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who con this true tale ten times over&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or make ten other Bee Friends buy it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For three and six I can supply it.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 100%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Fytte_I_Bee_Life" id="Fytte_I_Bee_Life"></a>Fytte I. Bee Life.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i006a.jpg" width="640" height="260" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All hail! thou lovely month of May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With parti-coloured flowers gay!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hail to you, my darling Bees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Much wealth you gain on days like these.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From morn to eve a humming sound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About the bee-house circles round.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i006b.jpg" width="640" height="280" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sentinels, in armour bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Keep watch and ward throughout the night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And drive away, constrained by oath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mice, and toads, and Death's head moth.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i007a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At early dawn 'tis quite a treat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see them work, they are so neat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some clean their house with brooms and mops,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And others empty out the slops.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i007b.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The architects, by rule and line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their future cells with skill define;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ever toiling workers these&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meanwhile the Queen, she takes her ease;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sole mother of the winged nation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her only work is propagation.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i008a.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The egg she lays; the nurses hatch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That egg, and in the cradle watch.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The babe to swaddle, and prepare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pap-boat, is their constant care.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i008b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All day, in regal state, the Queen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Encircled by her court is seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their backs they never rudely turn:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Good manners they by instinct learn.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i009a.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when night comes she goes to bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the pillow lays her head;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst by her side her faithful drone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Profoundly snores, for they are one.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i009b.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They send for letters ere they rise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For just at ten they ope their eyes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i010a.jpg" width="640" height="320" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The post office is in a flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which opens at a certain hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Miss Crocus keeps it, fresh and fair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tresses of her flowing hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They glitter like the purest gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by her saffron cakes are sold.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i010b.jpg" width="640" height="325" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Near is the pothouse where both grog<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is served to Bumble-Bees, and prog;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when the Bumble-Bees get groggy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their intellect, like men's, is foggy.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i011a.jpg" width="640" height="240" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On rose leaves they their letters write,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here's one they either wrote or might.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Great Queen, we hope you'll swarm to day";<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"For 'is a lovely first of May."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i011b.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The messenger this letter takes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And eke a store of saffron cakes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i012.jpg" width="640" height="325" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Drones they neither work, nor can<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do aught but sleep on a divan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And smoke their pipes through all the day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chibouks these love, and those a clay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such is their life&mdash;who would not be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A happy little worker Bee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Queen's too high for me,&mdash;a Drone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such laziness I let alone.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Fytte_II_The_Pig" id="Fytte_II_The_Pig"></a>Fytte II. The Pig.</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i013a.jpg" width="640" height="200" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now Johnny Dull had once a pig,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'T was far from fat, its bones were big.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To scratch his hide with all his might<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was this poor piggie's sole delight.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i013b.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once on a time it so fell out<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He in the garden roamed about:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He chanced to have an itching mood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bee house quite convenient stood&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i014a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His hide he scratched; the bees rushed out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stung him well from tail to snout&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! poor piggie cried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feeling these daggers pierce his hide.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i014b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John Dull, who heard the awful clatter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said, "Bless the pig! why what's the matter?"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i015a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He came,&mdash;he saw&mdash;, his porker, that<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was erst all lean, was now all fat.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i015b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It chanced a pig-jobber that way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was passing by; he stopped to say<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"How much friend Dull for that fat pig?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Just ten pounds ten, for he is big"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Done"&mdash;"done again"&mdash;the bargain's struck&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John Dull he found himself in luck,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i016a.jpg" width="640" height="290" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And blest his bees, and in their praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He chanted forth these jocund lays.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i016b.jpg" width="640" height="420" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fly forth, dear Bees, 'tis morn, fly forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To South, to North, to West, to East;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cull from every fragrant flower<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">A honied feast.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 15%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fly Home, dear Bees, 'tis Eve, fly home!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From North, from South, from East, from West;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Store in your cells your luscious spoil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And sweetly rest.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 15%;' />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The air is clear the day is warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John Dull sits watching for a swarm;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i017a.jpg" width="640" height="210" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What's this? he thought; while I've been talking<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My bees are all prepared for walking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Staves in their hands, and on his back<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each carries his provision pack.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i017b.jpg" width="640" height="225" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He strains his sight into the hole;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"They'll swarm to day&mdash;upon my soul."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i017c.jpg" width="640" height="225" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His brain swims round, his eyes feel heavy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sees no more the increasing levee.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i018a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His nose, as down and down it drops,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His half used pipe of 'bacca stops.&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i018b.jpg" width="640" height="200" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Buzz, buzz!&mdash;Hum, hum! a joyful sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Echoes the teeming hive around.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All gather at the trumpet's clang<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hear their noble Queen's harangue.&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Up children up, to swarm prepare"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"The honey thief sits stinking there."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"And we who love the scent of roses"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Have stale tobacco in our noses."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"We toil, we sweat from early May"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"To lay up for a rainy day."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Our cells we fill, and at the Fall"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"He sulphers us, and takes it all."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"So let us one and all deride"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"This honey thief, this Bee-i-cide."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Up children, up! to swarm prepare"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Whilst Master Dull sits snoring there."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"A devil he, upon my troth:"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Buzz! buzz! Hum! Hum! The swarm is off!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i020.jpg" width="640" height="890" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Fytte_III_The_Rivals" id="Fytte_III_The_Rivals"></a>Fytte III. The Rivals.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Nothing like soup," is still the cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In each well ordered family;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So on Christine the duty fell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To cull the herbs they love so well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every morn, the charming maid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within her father's garden strayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Parsley to pluck, wherewith to make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soup, which they at noon should take.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i021.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her father's garden marched, I ween,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that of Mr. Richard Dean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A school-master by trade was he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she esteemed him&mdash;maidenly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But by degrees, within her soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A softer, tenderer passion stole;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love&mdash;full of joy and full of sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sunshine to day, and storm to-morrow,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love may forget a parsley bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dream of golden flowers instead.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i022a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And so the maiden stooped to cull a<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crocus, and an auricula.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These flowers, together-bound, she placed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just half a foot above her waist.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i022b.jpg" width="640" height="390" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then sat her down beneath the shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thought about him&mdash;happy maid.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span><span class="i0">Now Mr. Dull a nephew had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A most audacious, awkward lad;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some fifteen summers he had seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still was very, very green.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i023.jpg" width="640" height="400" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Christine he eyed, and with desire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He felt his little soul on fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With cat like pace behind the wall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He crept (he was not near as tall.)<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i024a.jpg" width="640" height="360" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Leapt up, and from the affrighted Miss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ravished the much desired kiss.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i024b.jpg" width="640" height="360" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Stop little monster", and a whack<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Descended on his upturned back&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(The place I cannot more define<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within the limits of a line)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&mdash;Side, I should add, but wherefore tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What every school-boy knows so well.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dick Dean so roundly plied the stick<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That rogue Eugene skedaddled quick.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i025a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then Richard raised the fainting maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a tender thing he said;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her chin he chucked, his arm he placed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About her little taper waist;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i025b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her flowers admired, and begged them too:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Christine, she knew not what to do;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i026a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But blushed assent; the flowers he took,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thanked her with an ardent look.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i026b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Sweets are repaid by sweets I wiss",<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He said, and he too had a kiss.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span><span class="i0">"Adieu and&mdash;au revoir&mdash;" to night<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i027a.jpg" width="640" height="330" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pray let us meet, my heart's delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind your father's Bee-house, when<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Church-clock shall have sounded ten.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eugene, still smarting with the cane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His heart on fire, with jealous pain,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i027b.jpg" width="640" height="310" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O'erheard the place of assignation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And crept out from his hidden station;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rushed to the Bee-house, found John Dull<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Asleep, and snoring like a bull.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Wake, Uncle, wake" in startling tone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shouted, "for your swarm is gone."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Fytte_IV_The_Swarm" id="Fytte_IV_The_Swarm"></a>Fytte IV. The Swarm.</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i028a.jpg" width="640" height="425" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John Dull, awakened from his slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Observed his stock's diminished number;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His apple trees he searched, and found<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The swarm some ten feet from the ground;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i028b.jpg" width="640" height="260" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Got his bee dress, his hive, and ladder;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No Bee master was ever gladder.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i029a.jpg" width="640" height="400" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mounted, and without any trip<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Got all the bees within the skip&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i029b.jpg" width="640" height="360" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Well done I have them;" as he spoke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ladder's top-most rung it broke,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i030a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Crack! Crack! and, as I hope to thrive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The same befel the other five;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i030b.jpg" width="640" height="400" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bees rush forth and quit the hive!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i031a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John on his knees, and free from harm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Marked well the disappearing swarm.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i031b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two boys were making pies of dirt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Close by, and playing with a squirt;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They squirted at the bees to stop 'em,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Squirted in vain; they could not drop 'em.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i032a.jpg" width="640" height="450" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Old Sally met them with her mop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Sammy trumpeted, stop! stop!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i032b.jpg" width="640" height="340" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Dick and Bob and Bill they screeched,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not a sound these flyers reached&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i033a.jpg" width="640" height="385" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A Sweep upon the chimney top<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Showered soot upon them, and cried "Stop!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i033b.jpg" width="640" height="400" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When they had cleared the churches roof,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sam Dutton put his gun to proof;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i034a.jpg" width="640" height="390" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John Dull came panting up behind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And could no other stopper find;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i034b.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He stamped and swore and scratched his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"A pretty dance I have been led,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Confound the bees; I've got a warming"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some way I'll find to stop their swarming;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hive I'll build as big as two,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sold by Mancubrian P.tt.gr.w.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Fytte_V_The_Patent_Monster_Hive" id="Fytte_V_The_Patent_Monster_Hive"></a>Fytte V. The Patent Monster Hive.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Adverse events reveal the real man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So Horace wrote, refute this truth who can.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i035a.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And John Dull to its full completion wrought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The inspiration of his sudden thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Room for the swarm!" This is great Nature's law,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so he built two monstrous hives of straw.&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i035b.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Good morning neighbour" from across the fence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cried out Dick Dean. "May I without offence"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"Ask what your making." "Why these blessed bees,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I find them creatures plaguey hard to please."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Plaguey! dont say so&mdash;they're a real pleasure,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I love to watch them when I have the leisure;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Besides each scholar knows in antient days,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"How Maro sung his little darlings praise."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"And when the Roman legions brought alarm"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"To every inmate of his Mantuan farm,&mdash;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Smiling he stood, amidst his winged host;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"The mailed warriors fled and left him at his post."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"All this I know&mdash;Beekeeping would be charming,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"If there was never such a thing as swarming."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But grubs my friend! your bees are sure to breed,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Swarms come from grubs, as corn crops come from seed."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Grubs you must have; and when your swarming's done,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Two hives you'll find, where erst you had but one."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Bother the grubs; I know a better way,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"My patent monster hives, they are the things to pay."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i037.jpg" width="640" height="815" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Fytte_VI_The_Bear" id="Fytte_VI_The_Bear"></a>Fytte VI. The Bear.</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i038a.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Eugene would often take his lunch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of dry black bread a monstrous hunch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a wood&mdash;ere he got through it<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wished he'd some nice honey to it&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When all at once it chanced a bee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He saw creep up a hollow tree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another came, then two, and three.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Hurrah! there's honey here for me,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eugene exclaimed, "No more I'll eat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This nasty bread, but have a treat."&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i038b.jpg" width="640" height="240" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Honey for ever!" up he clomb<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the trees fork&mdash;the honey comb<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He saw below him in the beech<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hollowed by age, beyond his reach&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i039a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His hold he missed and sad to tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down midst the honey combs he fell;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i039b.jpg" width="640" height="400" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Into the cakes his boots went crush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As though it were mere muddy slush.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i040a.jpg" width="640" height="380" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Honey he found but every school-boy knows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cannot eat his sweetmeats with his clothes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i040b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Another Bee Hunter that way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One Mister Bruin chanced to stray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dancing Bear by trade was he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But fond of honey&mdash;certainly!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i041a.jpg" width="640" height="320" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"If I smell right here's honey comb";<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He said, or thought; then upwards clomb.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i041b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Eugene below, half dead with fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw the bears hinder's drawing near,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i042a.jpg" width="640" height="430" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With both hands gripped him tight and had a<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i042b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mount upwards by this living ladder;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sure never little lad was gladder.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i043a.jpg" width="640" height="420" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Meanwhile John Dull, a spying round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The self same honey tree had found;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i043b.jpg" width="640" height="330" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Up to the fork himself he reared<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Bruin's ugly mug appeared.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Augh, back he fell through utter fright;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Close to his tail did Braun alight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by Braun's heels Braun's parasite.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i044a.jpg" width="640" height="510" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Braun seized John Dull with either claw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just as himself was seized before;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i044b.jpg" width="640" height="365" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John pulling out his hunting knife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cut off his tail to save his life;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i045a.jpg" width="640" height="390" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sam Dutton here did interveen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"To shoot that grizzly bear I mean"!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Braun was nowhere to be seen.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i045b.jpg" width="640" height="280" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Early next morn came sawyers two,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sawed the Honey tree right through;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i046a.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There stuck the boots of young Eugene;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i046b.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He drew them out, and licked them clean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such blacking ne'er before was seen!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While John Dull, from the luscious store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Filled twenty honey pots or more.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Fytte_VII_The_Frog" id="Fytte_VII_The_Frog"></a>Fytte VII. The Frog.</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i047a.jpg" width="640" height="360" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The appetite with eating grows"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This truth my little story shows.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For many a day the rogue Eugene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To John Dull's bee-hives creeps unseen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smokes them,&mdash;Puff!&mdash;Puff!&mdash;then boldly takes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The much desired honey cakes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i047b.jpg" width="640" height="310" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When lo! one day the angry swarm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out on him rushed&mdash;the day was warm;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span><span class="i0">They covered him from top to toe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind, before, above, below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They buzzed, they crawled, they stung him,&mdash;Oh!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i048a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Eugene half stifled, for his nose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mouth were covered like his clothes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rushed to the nearest water-pit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And took a header into it;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i048b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rose through the Bee-besprinkled foam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ran, all dripping, to his home.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i049a.jpg" width="640" height="330" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Felt quite unwell! The doctor came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to his illness gave a name.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i049b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"By aid of careful auscultation,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"And thinking on his late natation,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I think, I think that I deskiver,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"A frog within this dear boy's liver."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i050a.jpg" width="640" height="380" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I'll get him up." A bee he took,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Impaled it on a fishing-hook;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i050b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Played it within his open jaws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bite! and up the frog he draws;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i051a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Frog to the open window took,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cut the line close by the hook;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i051b.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Frog to the pool, rejoicing, hopped;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And plump into the water dropped.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then chanted his Batrachian lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quite in th' Artistophanic way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Brekekekek, coax, coax,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Coax, coax, Brekekekek."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Fytte_VIII_The_Ghost" id="Fytte_VIII_The_Ghost"></a>Fytte VIII. The Ghost.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i052.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Forbidden fruit is sweet they say;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so its gathered every day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And should this fruit be sweet before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forbid it, and 'tis ten times more.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eugene oft coveted the pot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of honey that John Dull had got<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Placed on the shelf above his head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For safety, when he went to bed;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i053a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John slept, John snored; then ope'd his eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stared about him with surprise.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i053b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What's this I see come crawling on?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Sure, 'tis a strange phenomenon."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i054a.jpg" width="640" height="320" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A winged beast, with tail, and claws<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On his four feet, which end in paws.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i054b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With stealthy pace on on it crawled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">John turned upon his face, and bawled.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i055a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John's hair as this strange beast drew near<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His night cap raised for very fear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i055b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On its hind legs itself it reared,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As it its squalling master neared,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i056a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nearer still nearer&mdash;till he got<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i056b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The much desired honey pot.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i057a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Turns tail and runs; whilst Johnnie sits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bolt up, divested of his wits.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i057b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A pearly drop on every hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hangs pendant, not from heat, but fear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i058a.jpg" width="640" height="320" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Eugene his garret sought, and there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ate honey, like his friend the bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pot he emptied mighty soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Using his paws instead of spoon.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Fytte_IX_The_Honey_Thief" id="Fytte_IX_The_Honey_Thief"></a>Fytte IX. The Honey Thief.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i058b.jpg" width="640" height="230" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The flowers which Christine culled at morn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At eve were withered, and forlorn.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i059a.jpg" width="640" height="270" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">These withered flowers Dick sadly took,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And placed them in his music book;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then put the book upon the table,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pressed, the best that he was able.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i059b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The pressed flowers took a wondrous shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which seemed the human form to ape;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in these specimens, Christine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is imaged, and her Dicky Dean.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i060a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ten sounded from the old church tower&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the last stroke of the hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Close by the bee-house Richard Dean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His last new coat on, might be seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Christine, arrayed in all her charms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was there, and rushed into his arms.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i060b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hist! what's that sound?" alack! alack!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thief, with crotchet at his back&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Honey thief&mdash;ill may he thrive.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i061a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Each crept into a monster hive.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i061b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The thief peered round; "This will I take"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"This big one will my fortune make."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i062a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then hoisted Dicky, hive and all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon his back so lean, so tall&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i062b.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Halt," shouted Dicky, and the head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of his strange monture bonneted;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i063a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Held him down tight, and with a stick<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passed 'twixt his legs, secured him quick.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i063b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And Christine, what must she have felt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Bruin round about her smelt?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of the hive she softly stole;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i064a.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In crept the bear and through the hole<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the hive's top he poked his nose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Christine her ready courage shows,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i064b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She through his nose ring passed a stick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which from the ground she happed to pick.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i065a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Poor Bruin rolled upon his back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grunted out alas! alack!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i065b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So after all these strange alarms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Again Dick rushed into her arms.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i066a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">John Dull by chance came strolling by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His hives upset first met his eye;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He saw they both were tenanted&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amazed he looked, then scratched his head;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i066b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Peered all around, espied Christine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her own true love Dicky Dean;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind the bee house they were placed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Dicky's arm was round her waist.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i067a.jpg" width="640" height="270" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Come here" he cried "you little chit,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I understand it not a bit"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon their knees they both fell down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the whole mystery made known.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i067b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The father heard them all declare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then gave his blessing to the pair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Bless you my Christine: Dick I bless"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"With stores of wedded happiness."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i068a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then came the dramatis personae;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tall, the short, the fat, the bony.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i068b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sam Dutton thought to get a shot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now Bruin could no longer trot.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Sally interposed her mop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to his shooting put a stop.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i069a.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night watch came, and 'twixt them bore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The skewer'd thief to the prison door.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i069b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And came the bear leader as well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And took poor Bruin to his cell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i070a.jpg" width="640" height="290" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sam with his trumpet blew a rally,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Hip, Hurrah! cried ancient Sally.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i070b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long live both empty hives and full,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long live Dick Dean and Johnny Dull.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Fytte_X_The_Queen_Bees_Fete" id="Fytte_X_The_Queen_Bees_Fete"></a>Fytte X. The Queen Bee's Fete.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i071.jpg" width="640" height="400" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night is warm, and many a nose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upturned, is snoring in repose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whilst every tree and every flower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rejoices in that witching hour.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o'er John Dull his garden beds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moon her gentle influence sheds.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i072a.jpg" width="640" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis May the first, the Queen bee's f&ecirc;te!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she, in all her regal state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath her fairy hall of roses<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With her beloved drone reposes.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i072b.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She nods a sign; the bombardier<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awakes the echoes far and near.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i073a.jpg" width="640" height="290" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whilst tinkle, tinkle, clang! clang! bang!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Court musicians' strain out-rang.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fly he blows the shrill trompette,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gnat the softer clarionette;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The grasshopper, a fiddler he&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The drummer is the bumble bee.&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i073b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Willow-beetle, such a swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With young Sabina waltzes well;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i074a.jpg" width="640" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Liz too and Kitty have their swains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who one and all are taking pains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make themselves agreeable,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each to his own peculiar belle.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i074b.jpg" width="640" height="330" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Stag-Beetle, that beau precise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Regales his partner with an ice.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i075a.jpg" width="640" height="380" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Moon, upon the Apple Tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surveys, well pleased, the revelry.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i075b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two cockchafers soon quit the dance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They cannot bear the piercing glance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of their fair partners&mdash;see them set<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within a private cabinet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They smoke, they sing, they drink until<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their little polished paunch they fill.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i076a.jpg" width="640" height="290" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their homes they cannot find&mdash;alas!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They tumble backward on the grass.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"To whit" "To whoo" policeman Owl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wisest of all feathered fowl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hoots out; "why here's a precious go,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Drunk and incapable, ho! ho!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i076b.jpg" width="640" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"So come along, I know you well;"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He said, and drove them to his cell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were they discharged? No, never more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That cell it was an abattoir.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The owl supped on the elder Brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for his breakfast ate the other.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So you, who think a dance divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mind&mdash;never take excess of wine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i077a.jpg" width="640" height="310" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Evening star went flicker&mdash;flick&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over the bedroom candlestick;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And round its silver radiance shed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To light the sleepy moon to bed.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i077b.jpg" width="640" height="260" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I've done&mdash;I doff my riding gear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And order Pegasus&mdash;HIS BEER.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 100%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Notes_on_Buzz-a-Buzz" id="Notes_on_Buzz-a-Buzz"></a>Notes on Buzz-a-Buzz,</h2>
+
+<h4>APIARIAN, CLASSICAL, POETICAL, AND NONDESCRIPT.</h4>
+
+<hr class="half" />
+<h4>P R E L U D E.</h4>
+
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">Hail Muse!</span> &amp;c.&mdash;An Invocation to the Muses, both terse and expressive.
+Possibly not quite original, as I have a dim recollection that a
+certain obscure poet called Byron, whose works are now well nigh
+forgotten, made use of it.</p>
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">Peggy.</span>&mdash;A name dear to the writer, as that of the first pony which
+he ever had of his very own&mdash;the gift of a kind Godfather&mdash;of
+a different sex indeed from Pegasus. There is, therefore, some
+hopes that the breed may have been preserved, but, as far as my
+experience goes, I may regretfully say,</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Quando ullam inveniam parem.</p></div>
+
+<p>I have, alas, grown stout; and it requires a strong cob to carry
+twenty stone, and go lively under it as well. Such a mount fetches
+a long price, which does not suit a short purse; and such Godfathers,
+alas! <i>abierunt ad plures</i>; their successors give no such gifts
+to their Godchildren.</p>
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">Parnassus Green.</span>&mdash;Not at all the same sort of place as Paddington
+Green. The latter is now familiarly haunted by our Comic song
+writers, those most dolorous of all funny men. Parnassus Green
+stands, from the necessity of rhyme, for Green Parnassus.</p>
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">Hippocrene.</span>&mdash;The first horse drinking fountain, and produced, moreover,
+by a stamp of Peggy's hoof. This would be a good subject for a
+drinking fountain of the present day. I make a present of the idea
+to any young sculptor who has a commission from one of our
+merchant princes, and is hard up for a subject. The most approved
+receipt for developing a poetic temperament was to sleep
+on Parnassus, and drink of Hippocrene in the morn. Persius has it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>
+"Non fonte labra prolui caballino,<br />
+Nec in bicipiti somniasse Parnasso<br />
+Memini, ut repente sic poeta prodirem."<br />
+</p></div>
+
+<p>No more have I; and perhaps some of my readers may say that I
+should have done better had I waited for a sleep on Parnassus, and
+a drink of Hippocrene before I began to write. All I can say is, I
+hope to take one next year, if I visit Greece.</p>
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">Fytte I.</span>&mdash;<i>Page 1-7.</i>&mdash;The fun of this first Fytte will be "real nuts" to
+every Bee-master. The whole economy of a Hive is viewed from a
+human stand-point. The sentinels watching with their own stings
+in their hands as lances; the early labours of the chamber and
+house maids; the architects setting out the day's work; the swaddling
+clothes and pap boat for the Grub Royal; the State of the Queen;
+the idleness of the drones: all is well told, at least in the wood cuts.</p>
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">Pig in the Garden strayed around.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 8.</i>&mdash;A very improper
+place for Pig to take his constitutional walk. The wicket gate
+which leads to your Hives should be always properly secured, or
+results very different from the fattening of a pig may be produced.
+For what is possible, though not very probable, see one of the early
+chapters of Maryatt's Mr. Midshipman Easy.</p>
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">Was erst all lean, was now all fat.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 10.</i>&mdash;The alteration
+of the animal tissue in consequence of a sting is very wonderful;
+it is certainly not fat which is deposited. So that this method of
+getting Bacon Pigs ready for market, though it would save corn,
+would not be satisfactory to the Bacon Curer when he puts his
+flitches in salt, still less to the cook, when frying a rasher.</p>
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">Fly forth, dear Bee, 'tis morn, fly forth.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 11.</i>&mdash;I shall
+be obliged to any one of my many friends, skilled in Musical Composition,
+if they will set this original Bee song. The prelude and
+refrain offer a fine opportunity for a Buzz-a-Buzz effect. On receipt
+of a satisfactory production I will forward to the Composer a bound
+copy of <i>Buzz-a-Buzz</i>, with the translator's autograph. Inestimable
+reward!</p>
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">John Dull sits waiting for a Swarm.</span>&mdash;<i>Page 11.</i>&mdash;as I have done for
+many an hour, and lost the swarm after all. John Dull drops asleep
+whilst watching. I have often ceased watching just as the swarm
+was about to rise. The Bees choose their own time, which is not
+always that which the Bee master would for them. But the whole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+subject of swarming, and how to regulate it, or prevent it, will
+be fully treated of in the forthcoming second edition of "My Bee
+Book."</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">This honey thief, this Bee-i-cide.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 14.</i>&mdash;This latter word is
+the invention of the learned Doctor Cumming, the Times' Bee-master.
+See a most stunning article on his Bee-Book in the Saturday
+Review, the second or third number for December, 1864. The
+proverbial thickness of a Scotchman's skin can alone have preserved
+him from dying from the effects of this stinging article.
+"Docte Commenas utriusque linqu&#339;" say I.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">Cull a Crocus and an Auricula.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 17.</i>&mdash;The last word was
+indeed a difficult one to hitch into rhyme. It has, however, been,
+I think, successfully overcome. I might have added another line,
+and made a triplet,</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>
+"Flowers which her Richard loved particular,"
+</p></div>
+
+<p>but I had compassion on the ears of my readers.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">"The place I Cannot more define,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: -2em;"><span class="smcap">"Within the limits of a line."</span>&mdash;<i>Page 19.</i></span><br />
+
+I well remember, when an Eton boy, walking in the playing fields
+with a late revered and beloved prelate, then a Fellow of Eton,
+whose memory is dear to every Etonian who knew him, as that of a
+kind friend and finished scholar,&mdash;such as alas! seem extinct in these
+degenerate days. He was living in a picturesque old house, "The
+Warf," now destroyed, that his two sons, then at Eton, might
+still have the benefit of home associations. His daughters, and their
+French governess, accompanied us in this well-remembered stroll.
+Mademoiselle was very curious as to how the Eton boys were punished.
+She wanted all the details, and asked if they were whipped
+on their backs. The question made us all look foolish, but Dr. L.
+with a twinkle of his eyes, which marked his appreciation of the
+<i>situation</i>, answered, "A little lower down, Mademoiselle, a little
+lower down."</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">Fetched His Bee Dress, his Hive, his Ladder.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 23.</i>&mdash;A veritable
+Guy Mr. Dull looks in his defensive armour! A simpler and
+equally efficient dress may be made of a black net bag, large
+enough to be drawn over a straw or felt hat, with a brim sufficiently
+wide to keep the net away from the prominent organ, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+nose, and long enough to be buttoned into the Bee-master's coat.
+A couple of elastic bands round the wrists will prevent the Bees
+crawling up his sleeves, the same round the ancles will secure
+the most timorous Bee master. "A Lady's dress I cannot pretend
+to regulate." See "My Bee Book," where many instances of the
+effect of stings are given. When swarming, Bees are particularly
+gentle, and never sting, except when some are crushed. A true
+Bee-master will despise such defensive armour, but trust rather to
+his gentleness and knowledge of the habits of his Bees for his
+immunity from stings. Should he be stung, nevertheless, in spite of
+all precautions, let him instantly extract the sting, and apply a drop
+of honey to the place. This will immediately allay the smarting
+pain, and the swelling, except in certain places, as the eye or lip,
+be trifling. <i>Eau de Luce</i> as it is commonly called, that is, strong
+ammonia, is another excellent remedy; a small bottle should be
+kept in every apiary in the box of "needments." But above all,
+let the Bee-master eschew gloves, specially when delicate operations
+are to be performed. A cat might as soon expect to catch mice
+in mittens, as a Bee-master to capture a Queen with hands encased
+in, and fingers stiffened by, thick woollen gloves, as recommended
+by some.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">Some way I'll find to stop this Swarming.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 29.</i>&mdash;It is not to
+be done by monster hives, or ventilation, or by adding supers. If
+the Bees will swarm, they will. They are a stiff-necked generation,
+and know their own business, at least they think so, better
+than we men can teach it them. Our objects, however, are slightly
+different. Their's to propagate and preserve their species: ours to
+secure the maximum amount of honey in any given locality. I
+have known a swarm sent forth from a <i>Ruche a l'air libre</i>, a French
+Hive, which I worked in New Zealand. The Combs and Bees were
+entirely exposed to the external air, which was not then particularly
+warm. But a swarm was ready to go, so off they went. For
+full particulars of this remarkable instance see "My Bee Book,"
+second edition. To regulate, not to prevent swarming should be
+the Bee-master's aim. More of this hereafter. I here give, by
+the kindness of Mr. Alfred Neighbour, illustrations of the sort
+of hive by which alone this can be accomplished, viz., the Bar
+Frame hive. Originally of German invention, it, with various modifications,
+has been widely adopted both on the Continent and in
+America; and every Bee-master in England who claims the title of
+scientific, would do well to supply himself at once. Each honey
+comb, it will be seen, is built in a separate bar frame like a picture.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>They are ranged to the number of 9, 11, or 13, in a strong box,
+and each is both moveable and interchangeable with those of any
+other hive. Swarming may be checked in any particular stock
+by cutting out the Queen Cells. The great production of drones
+can be regulated by limiting the amount of drone cell in any
+hive, and altogether prevented by removing it all from a stock
+hive, about the purity of whose strain there is the least doubt;
+whilst again, it may be encouraged in a pure blooded stock hive,
+by inserting at the proper time an additional bar containing drone
+comb. Any man handy with tools may make them for himself at
+the cost of the materials, and they will last a lifetime. I can supply
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>my friends with as many as they require at half a guinea, for which
+they pay double or treble in the shops; whilst those who think nothing
+can be good except it is high-priced, and do not like the trouble of
+making their own hives, may go to any cost they like. The preceding
+woodcut represents a hive on this principle, but with certain modifications,
+which may be obtained of Mr. Neighbour, 149, Regent-street,
+and will suit the class of Bee keepers last mentioned. Mr.
+Neighbour has, I may mention, made arrangements for supplying
+Ligurian Queens of the greatest purity.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i082a.jpg" width="640" height="200" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i082b.jpg" width="640" height="100" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;">
+<img src="images/i082c.jpg" width="640" height="290" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">"A dancing Bear by trade was he,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: -2em;"><span class="smcap">"And Honey loved exceedingly."</span>&mdash;<i>Page 35.</i></span><br />
+
+This "Bar" story is an addition to, and improvement on, one which I
+recollect to have read in some American publication. A man who
+had dropped into a hollow tree is hoisted up by the same "living
+ladder." He, if I remember rightly, grasped the hinders of the Bear
+with one hand, and with the other prodded him with his Bowie
+knife, so as to change his descending into an ascending motion.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">Honey Cakes.</span>&mdash;The French use the word <i>Gateaux</i>. I wish the name
+"Honey Cakes" were universally adopted by Bee-masters. It would
+supply a meaning which the word "comb" does not at all. A honey
+comb may be as dry as dust, whilst the "honey cake" places before
+the eyes of the imagination a full comb well sealed over, with here
+and there a drop of clear honey oozing out, as a sample of the
+store within. Perfectly sealed honey cakes may be kept without
+deterioration through the winter, by wrapping them up separately
+in clean writing paper, and then packing them away in a tin, each
+cake being placed as it stood in the hive. If Bar-Frame Hives
+are used, the cakes should not be cut away from the frame till
+wanted; they should be stored away in some close box, fitted to
+receive them.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">And Cover Him From Top To Toe.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 43.</i>&mdash;Bee literature contains
+many instances of persons having been completely enveloped in a
+swarm of Bees, who by remaining perfectly still did not receive a
+single sting. Old Thorley, in his &#924;&#949;&#955;&#953;&#963;&#963;&#959;&#955;&#959;&#947;&#953;&#945; tells the story
+of his maid-servant being so covered in a manner very quaint and
+charming. Perfect quiet under these circumstances is essential to, and
+will secure, safety; whilst any thing which can enrage 20,000
+soldiers, armed with a poisoned dart, may lead to fatal results.
+Since I wrote the above, a story has appeared in the newspapers,
+and is, I fear a true one, as names, dates and places are given, of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>
+a sting having been fatal to a lady accustomed to the management
+of bees. Any person who has this idiosyncrasy had better give bees
+a wide berth.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">I Deskiver.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 44.</i>&mdash;There was evidently a taste of Milesian
+blood in this learned doctor. 'Tis fortunate that it was so, for
+"discover" and "liver" would not rhyme.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">"Brekekekex, Coax, Coax,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: -2em;"><span class="smcap">"Coax, Coax, Brekekekex."</span>&mdash;<i>Page 46.</i></span><br />
+
+Is the refrain of the well-known chorus in the Frogs of Aristophanes.
+Any one with an accurate ear, who has been so happy
+as to assist at a chorus of Bull Frogs in full song in the sweet
+spring tide, sacred to love and melody, must have felt how accurately
+the great Comic Poet noted down their song. I do not believe
+that in the two thousand years which have elapsed since that time
+there has been a single note altered in their love ditty. I have
+never been in Greece, and so cannot testify to the musical powers of
+the Frogs of B&#339;otia; but I have had that pleasure both in Spain and
+in the neighbourhood of Constantinople: in both instances under very
+favourable circumstances, which I will relate. In June, 1855, during
+the Crimean war, I was at Constantinople, the guest of Lord Napier,
+then Chief Secretary to the British Embassy in that city. He was
+residing at that lovely place, Therapia, the summer retreat of our
+Ambassador and his suite. I had pitched my little tent in a grass
+meadow, close to Lord Napier's snug house. His hospitality by day
+was unbounded, but straitened as he was for room by night, he was
+not sorry to entertain a guest who delighted in camping out, and
+brought with him the means of doing so. Not fifty yards from my
+tent was a dark stagnant pool, overshadowed by trees, and every
+night and all night long the Bull frogs, from their reedy habitations,
+sang "Brekekekex, Coax, Coax," whilst above the water, and in
+and out of the dark shadows of the trees, the fire flies flickered
+about in their ever varying gambols. It was as though Taglioni, resplendent
+with Jewels, had been dancing her very best to the strains
+of a Scotch bag-pipe. Again, I was in the noble town of Seville
+at Easter, 1867, twelve years later, during which time I had been
+hard at work in England, and "no holiday had seen," so by that
+time I needed one. Not a hundred yards from the glorious Cathedral,
+behind the Alcazar, the old Palace of the Moors, is a large
+orange garden, and in the midst of it a square tank, of Moorish work,
+used for irrigation. The garden was tenanted by a widow woman
+who owned a dozen or so magnificent stall-fed milch cows, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>
+thither I resorted early every morning, after visiting the Cathedral,
+for the sake of a glass of new milk, and a lesson in Spanish from
+her two little daughters aged respectively nine and ten, Incarnacion
+(the last c pronounced th) and Salud. Commend me to two
+chattering little girls, when their shyness has once worn off, as the
+best teachers of a new language. One glorious morning I was
+sitting on the edge of the aforesaid tank, inhaling the delicious
+perfume of the orange blossoms, when a Frog struck up his
+"Brekekekex, Coax Coax" from the still water, and at the same time
+the air was resonant with the sweet song of the Nightingale. I
+pride myself on knowing somewhat of the languages of Birds,
+Beasts, and (Fishes? No! they are mutum pecus, but let us say) Bull
+Frogs so I listened attentively, and found the Nightingale and Bull
+Frog, were each of them serenading his own wife, arboreal, and
+aquatic. Each wife thought her husband the very best singer in
+the world: that not a note of his song could be altered for the
+better; and both Nightingale and Bull Frog thought the other singer
+a bore. I noted down the whole of this musical contest at the time.
+It is quite in the way of one of Virgil's Am&#339;b&#339;an Bucolics. Not
+Corydon and Thyrsis, but Batrachos and Philomela were contending
+for the prize. It is too long to insert here, but may be had of my publishers,
+under the title of "Bull Frog and Nightingale;" an Apologue,
+price 6d. But the sum of the whole matter is this: I do not
+believe, "pace Darwinii nostri dicatur," that natural selection, and
+conjugal preference has had the effect of altering or improving the
+Nightingale's song in the last two thousand years. It could not be
+louder or better, and I trust may last my time unchanged, whilst on
+the evidence of Aristophanes' chorus we know that Bull Frogs, then,
+as now, sang "Brekekekex, Coax, Coax," <i>and that song only</i>.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">The Honey Pot.</span>&mdash;<i>Page 47-52.</i>&mdash;This Fytte, comical as it is in itself, is
+particularly valuable as instructing the untravelled Britisher in the
+peculiarities of a German bedstead; far too short for all who have
+not by some Procrust&#339;an process been reduced to the normal height
+of five feet, no inches! the upper sheet sown to the coverlid,
+with no possibility of tucking it in, and liable to fall off the sleeper
+altogether. No blankets, but a mountain of feather-bed piled above,
+which either stifles you in summer, or rolling off, leaves you to
+freeze in the winter. Yet in such a bed as this what wonderful
+positions Mr. Dull managed to assume under the influence of fear.
+Imitate him, my gentle reader, if you are still young and active,
+and then you will appreciate his contortions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">A Honey Thief, ill may he thrive.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 55.</i>&mdash;Every Bee keeper
+will echo this wish. I know no sight more piteous than an apiary
+the night after it has been plundered. Light Hives upset, and lying,
+with the combs all broken, on the ground. The Bees crawling about
+in wild confusion around their violated homes, lately so neat, and
+now the very picture of desolation. In vain they attempt to repair
+the damage which the spoiler's hand has created; whilst the stands
+where the heavy stocks stood the evening before, are one and all tenantless.
+Many devices to protect Hives from robbers have been tried.
+Wooden boxes are tightly screwed to the bottom board from below,
+whilst the bottom board itself is strongly bolted to the stand. This
+will indeed protect a hive from anything but a powerful crow bar.
+But the remedy is worse than the disease, as it prevents your ever
+changing or cleaning the bottom board, and is, in many ways,
+inconvenient. The best preservative I can think of is to have a
+savage dog, savage to all but his master, with a strong chain, not
+fastened to his kennel, but ending in an iron ring, which can slide
+along a small pole placed horizontally about a foot from the ground
+in front of the Hives. I have seen this mode of defence adopted
+in Germany for the protection of the valuable Leech ponds, which
+are there fattened for the market. It answers for the defence of
+Leeches, and if so, why not for Bees.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt">"<span class="smcap">Many a nose, upturned, was Snoring in Repose.</span>"&mdash;<i>Page 66.</i>&mdash;My
+readers will doubtless remember, as I confess to have done
+when penning the above line, the opening of Southey's Thalaba,
+and the inimitable parody thereof in the Rejected Addresses.
+When a thing has been done excellently well, it is folly to again
+attempt the same with a certainty of failure before our eyes. We
+verse makers do not steal from each other; we are all one brotherhood,
+and <i>Corbies nae pike out corbies e'en</i>. But we convey&mdash;<i>conveys</i>
+the word, says glorious Will.</p>
+
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">"And between them bore,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: -2em;"><span class="smcap">"The felon to the prison door."</span>&mdash;<i>Page 66.</i></span><br />
+
+This mode of removing a captive would have suited that extinct
+species of our protective force, that of the Dogberry and Verges
+order, and may be recommended to our new police as more merciful,
+and less grating to the feelings of a prisoner than the present
+mode of "running a man in;" especially as they generally get hold of
+the wrong person. A police sedan would enable the innocent captive
+to conceal his features from the tail of little boys and idle quidnuncs,
+specially if he were carried like our honey thief head downwards.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">The</span> last Chapter is like the first, written in the style of the Butterfly's
+Ball and the Grasshopper's feast, and is, it seems to me, no less
+admirable. If I pride myself on anything in this translation it is
+on the concluding lines:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><small>
+"The evening star went flicker&mdash;flick&mdash;<br />
+Over the bedroom candlestick;<br />
+And round its silver radiance shed<br />
+To light the sleepy moon to bed."<br />
+</small></p></div>
+
+
+<p class="nidt"><span class="smcap">"I've done I doff my riding gear,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: -2em;"><span class="smcap">"And order Pegasus&mdash;HIS BEER."</span>&mdash;<i>Page 72.</i></span><br />
+
+Baierische Bier is infinitely superior to any Hippocrene. But no
+drink in the world can hold a candle to genuine "Wienische Bier," as
+it comes cool drawn from the cellar. The Romans knew not beer, and
+so had to put up with "Falernian," or even the "vile C&#339;cubum."
+I say put up, for the wine that now goes by the name of Falernian is
+detestable. I suppose, however, that two thousand years ago it
+was far more carefully made, as I trust it may again be in
+"Italia Unita." The Romans, knew not beer, but the Greeks
+had tasted it, though brewed by the hands of barbarians. In
+Xenophon's Retreat of the Ten Thousand we are told that they
+came upon a race of people from whom they got</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><big>&#7960;&#954; &#954;&#961;&#953;&#952;&#8182;&#957;
+&#956;&#941;&#952;&#965;.</big></p></div>
+
+<p>Let us then leave Pegasus to enjoy his drink of barley wine, though
+like Baron Munchausen's famous steed, he hath not the wherewithal
+to stow away his beer. My dear old Peggy, alluded to in the first
+of this series of notes, and therefore the fittest subject for a wind up,
+was, when hard worked, very fond of a quart of good ale, with
+half a quartern loaf broken into it; she would drink up the ale
+at a draught, then quickly munch the sop, and start with fresh
+vigour for another ten-mile trot.</p>
+
+<hr class="half" />
+<h4>CORRIGENDA.</h4>
+
+<p class="idt">The reader is asked to excuse the following errors, excusable&mdash;as for the sake of
+having its original wood blocks, the work, with the exception of the notes, was printed
+abroad.</p>
+
+<p class="idt">Page 6, for <i>'ts</i> read <i>t'is</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="idt">Page 35 should be&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>
+<span class="i0">"But every sweet-toothed school-boy knows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He can't eat honey with his toes."<br /></span>
+</p></div>
+
+<p class="idt">Page 36, for <i>hinder's</i> read <i>hinders</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="idt">Page 70, for <i>Ap le Tree</i> read <i>Apple Tree</i>.</p>
+
+<hr class="half" />
+<h5>PHILLIPSON AND GOLDER, PRINTERS, CHESTER.</h5>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 625px;">
+<img src="images/i088.jpg" width="625" height="1024" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Buzz a Buzz, by Wilhelm Busch
+
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+</body>
+</html>
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