hands.)

"The crash will come," he said to Cassandra. "The revolutionists
will leave the city. A new queen has already been proclaimed."

Cassandra scarcely noticed him. She did not even thank him for
his help, and Maya felt keenly conscious that the old lady was
not a bit nice to the young gentleman. The child was a little
afraid to ask questions, the impressions were coming so thick
and fast; they threatened to overwhelm her. The general
excitement got into her blood, and she set up a fine, distinct
buzzing.

"What do you mean by that?" said Cassandra. "Isn't there noise
enough as it is?"

Maya subsided at once, and looked at Cassandra questioningly.

"Come here, child, we'll see if we cannot quiet down a bit."
Cassandra took Maya by her gleaming wings, which were still soft
and new and marvelously transparent, and shoved her into an
almost deserted corner beside a few honeycombs filled with
honey.

Maya stood still and held on to one of the cells.

"It smells delicious here," she observed.

Her remark seemed to fluster the old lady again.

"You must learn to wait, child," she replied. "I have brought up
several hundred young bees this spring and given them lessons
for their first flight, but I haven't come across another one
that was as pert and forward as you are. You seem to be an
exceptional nature."

Maya blushed and stuck the two dainty fingers of her hand in her
mouth.

"Exceptional nature--what is an exceptional nature?" she asked
shyly.

"Oh, _that's_ not nice," cried Cassandra, referring not to
Maya's question, which she had scarcely heeded, but to the
child's sticking her fingers in her mouth. "Now, listen. Listen
very carefully to what I am going to tell you. I can devote only
a short time to you. Other baby-bees have already slipped out,
and the only helper I have on this floor is Turka, and Turka is
dreadfully overworked and for the last few days has been
complaining of a buzzing in her ears. Sit down here."

Maya obeyed, with great brown eyes fastened on her teacher.

"The first rule that a young bee must learn," said Cassandra,
and sighed, "is that every bee, in whatever it thinks and does,
must be like the other bees and must always have the good of all
in mind. In our order of society, which we have held to be the
right one from time immemorial and which couldn't have been
better preserved than it has been, this rule is the one
fundamental basis for the well-being of the state.