[Here Kate, George, and Sarah Anne, all exclaimed at once that they knew to which group the bee belonged. They all agreed that it must be an articulate, or jointed animal. On being questioned, Kate said that she had been peeping through Grandpapa's microscope, and she could see the joint in the bee's leg; George said that he had noticed the bee move its wings and legs, which it could not have done unless it had had joints; and Sarah Anne said she had concluded that the bee must be a jointed animal, because the form of its body was very like that of the ant, which had been mentioned as an example of that group.]

The bee is an articulated, or jointed animal, and it is divided into parts. We have, therefore, already learned that the busy little creature belongs to the group of ARTICULATA, and the class INSECTA.

I shall now tell you some curious facts about the whole of this class, for they are not only alike in outward particulars, but their modes of growth and changes are very much alike. In some of the tribes of insects, the segments or divisions of the body are very numerous, and in some, as many as eighty pairs of legs have been counted! Hence the names, "Myriapoda," or thousand-footed; and "Centipede," or hundred-footed. In the most perfect animals belonging to this class, the body consists of three portions (Fig. 3); viz., head, thorax, and abdomen.

In connexion with the HEAD, we find the eyes, and the antennæ or feelers, and the organs of sensation. The THORAX has articulated to it the legs and wings, the organs of locomotion; and the ABDOMEN contain the digestive organs, and the parts necessary for nutrition and reproduction. Insects divide their food by cutting it, or suck it through a proboscis; and the mouth is variously contrived, according to the manner in which the creature lives. The antennæ are those two delicate horns, which look like a series of small beads on a thread, with a little knob at the end;

It is quite certain that these animals possess the sense of hearing, for it is related by Brunelli, that the crickets which he kept in a chamber "continued their crinking song through the whole day; but the moment they heard a knock at the door, they were silent. He subsequently invented a method of imitating their sounds, and when he did so outside the door, at first a few would venture on a soft whisper, and by and by the whole party burst out into a chorus to answer him; but, upon repeating the rap at the door, they instantly stopped again, as if alarmed." It has been remarked, moreover, that the sound made by the queen bee is recognized at once by her subjects.

The sense of smell they possess in a high degree; for we find that moths avoid drawers in which there is an odour of turpentine, and that flies readily detect where food is to be found. A stream of beetles comparatively rare has been seen to set in from all points of the compass towards a recent nuisance, which such creatures were authorized, as the scavengers of nature, to remove.

The sense of sight is highly developed in most insects, though there are a few in which no eyes have been discovered. Some have two eyes, some have four; in some the eye is simple, in others it is conglomerate, or composed of an immense number of lenses grouped together. These conglomerate eyes, when examined through the microscope, are seen to consist of convex, hexagonal pieces, as transparent as crystal. Each facet of the compound eye may be looked upon as a separate organ of vision. The fabulous Argus of ancient mythology is therefore far exceeded by the insect tribes. The former was considered wonderful because he had one hundred eyes; what shall we say of the bee, which has twice one hundred hundred, or ten thousand on each side of his head? The common ant has 50, the house-fly 4,000, the gad-fly 7,000, the gorgeous dragon-fly 24,000; and one of the beetle-tribe possesses 25,000 eyes. In each cornea of the butterfly, Leenwenhoek counted 17,235 lenses; so that such insects may be supposed to

possess, in round numbers, the enormous aggregation of 34,000 eyes!

The sense of touch is moreover highly deeveloped, for the ordinary observer must have remarked how sensitive the house-fly is. The proboscis is especially organized to sexercise this faculty of touch; and now sperched upon my finger is a fly, earnestly engaged in examining with his trunk what is the nature of the substance on which he is located, and with remarkable coolness he is also proceeding to discover which of the pores in my skin affords him the best chance of a nutritious draught of my insensible perspiration.

[Upon this the young people rushed to look at the fly, but the creature either saw them coming with his four thousand eyes, or else with his sensitive nerves perceived a disturbance in the air which the rush had created, and forthwith absconded without giving the inquisitive company an opportunity of prying into his domestic concerns, or his drinking habits.]

The thorax, or chest, is the second division or section of the body next to the head. This usually supports all the members, viz., the wings and legs. The former are in many cases exquisitely beautiful. Look at the graceful dragon-flies, or

"The beautiful blue damsel-flies, That flutter round the jasmine stems Like winged flowers or flying gems." The moths and butterflies, how wonderfully made, how gorgeously decorated!

The velvet nap which on his wings doth lie, The silken down with which his back is dight, His broad outstretched horns, his airy thighs, His glorious colours, and his glistening eyes.' The wings are composed of two membranes; an upper one, in which the cords, (or more properly pipes), are placed; and the lower one, which can be separated from the other. Each of these cords or nervures is a hollow pipe fitted with a spiral spring, coiled in its interior to keep its channel open; yet so fine are the wings of some insects, that fifty thousand of them must be placed one upon the other to make a mass a quarter of an inch in thickness! 13 of these splendid appendages Professor Owen writes" The grand and characteristic endowment of an insect is its wings every part of the organization is modified sin subserviency to the full fruition of these organs of motion. In no other part of the

& 3

animal kingdom is the organization for flight so perfect so apt to the end, as in the class of insects. The swallow cannot match the dragon-fly in flight. This insect has been seen to outstrip and elude its swift pursuer of the feathered class: nay, it can do more in the air than any bird; it can fly backwards and forwards, and alter its course on the instant without turning.” The hollow cords of the wing communicate with the windpipe, or trachea, in the trunk; and thus the wings, like the gills of fishes, perform an important office in the act of respiration. A distinguished naturalist expresses an opinion, that the expansion of the wings of insects can only take place by the filling of the tubes with air, forcibly driven into them from the windpipe, and thus the tension of the wing is secured.

The abdomen (Fig 3, c) is the third division of the insect; it is usually composed of rings of horny texture, varying in number from one to fifteen. If you look carefully with a magnifying glass at the side of the body of the bee, you will perceive that there are what seem at first to be only dots, but which are really "breathing-holes." Within the sides of the abdomen run two canals, or air-passages, one on each side, whose sides open at these pores. These, like the pipes in the wings, are kept open by an elastic spiral thread, by which they may be said to be lined. At the extremity of the abdomen, in some of the insects, we find the sting, forceps, or saws, which are used for defence, or the construction of their habitations. The insects cannot be truly said to possess a heart; but there is a tube or vessel which runs along the upper side of the body, and which is larger in one part than any other." 'The blood is cold, transparent, and nearly colourless but they have a pulse, which varies with muscular exertion or excitement.

JON

In thus explaining the anatomy of insects in general, I wish you to understand, that I am describing also the anatomy of the immediate subject of this Lecture—the honey-bee. I shall hereafter show you, that there are three different kinds

of

and tell you of the wonderful babo these creatures, whose doings have been the objects of astonishment to naturalists in all ages. has been appro

*Kirby. † Westwood.* * Owen.

This should be done twenty-four hours before the dough is put into the oven-for instance, if it is to be put into the oven between two and three o'clock in the afternoon, the above composition-which bakers call "the ferment "--should be set to rise about the same time on the previous day. The yeast should be suffered to rise until halfpast nine in the evening, when it will be found to have formed on the surface a solid frothy mass, which is technically called "a head." The next process is called by the bakers "setting the sponge," it is conducted thus Have ready twenty-one pounds of flour (wanting the three spoonfuls above mentioned,) in your kneading-trough; make a hollow in the middle of the flour, stir up the ferment, and pour it in. Stir in a little of the flour from the sides, beating the mixture up well, until it is of the consistence of thin batter; sprinkle a little flour over it, cover it up to keep it warm, and leave it to rise until about half-past nine o'clock on the following morning, when it will have risen so as nearly to fill the trough and be ready for kneading. The proper time for kneading may be known by the fermentation beginning to subside, and the spongy mass sinking a little.

A large kneading-trough is necessary, because the sponge rises very much, more so than in the usual process and if the trough were not sufficiently large, the dough would work over and be lost.

If the bread is eaten rather salt, take four ounces, if not, take three ounces of salt to the three gallons of flour, and dissolve them in a very little warm water-say half a pint. The advantage of dissolving the salt is, that it will be equally dispersed throughout the dough; whereas, when it is put in dry, one part is apt to be salter than the rest, especially when the bread is imperfectly kneaded.

While the salt is dissolving, work up the dough a little with the hand, and when the solution of salt is of a proper warmth, stir it (having previously strained it,) into the dough, and knead it up well, adding what more water may be required. In winter the water must be warm; but in summer it may be nearly or quite cold. When the dough is sufficiently kneaded, cover it up warm, and leave it to rise by the fire, if the weather be cold, until the baker comes for it, when it must be just worked up

together, and put on his tray. The baker should be told to make it into six loaves.

It

In cold weather, too much care cannot be taken to keep the dough warm. must be placed close to the fire during the night, and out of the draught, and it should be covered with a folded blanket, or something of the same kind; and if the weather be very cold, the flour should be placed before the fire in the kneading-trough, some time before the ferment is added, that the cold may not check the fermentation.

The quantity of well-baked bread, produced from twenty-one pounds of flour, varies from twenty-eight and a half to thirty pounds. The difference is occasioned by the goodness of the flour, and the heat of the oven. If the oven be hot, the bread will lose less in baking, and the crust will be browner than when the oven is slack. Well-baked bread is more wholesome than that which is under-baked.

If the dough from the above quantity of flour be divided into six loaves, each loaf will weigh nearly five pounds. They will be crusty loaves, because each will be baked separately; for as they do not contain alum, they would not, if baked close together, separate from each other in the same manner as bakers' loaves. The alum in the baker's bread serves several purposes; it enables the baker to separate his loaves evenly, and without trouble, and it causes the flour to absorb more water; consequently, a four pound loaf of bakers' bread will contain more water, and less nourishment, than a loaf of the same weight of home-made bread. The alum also imparts a better colour to the flour, and corrects the unpleasant flavour arising from damaged or new corn.

The process above described may, perhaps, appear tedious, but it is, in fact, very simple and easy; and if these directions are strictly attended to, the bread will never be either bitter or heavy, and will keep for a fortnight without becoming sour.

One reason why home-made bread keeps better than bakers' bread, is because alum is what the chemists call an efflorescent salt, that is, it becomes dry by exposure to the air; common salt is deliquescent, that is, it attracts moisture from the air, therefore bread which contains salt only, keeps moist longer than that which contains alum.