he disturbed and angry bees stung and swarmed, the Bee-man rushed
out followed by the Very Imp, the Languid young man and the fairy, and
made his way to the child's mother. Just as soon as the baby was safely
restored, the Bee-man ruminated thoughtfully awhile and finally remarked
to the fairy:

"Do you know of all the things I have met so far, I liked the baby best
of all, so I think I must have been a baby once!"

"Right you are," assented the fairy, "I knew it before, but, of course,
I couldn't tell. Now I shall change you into your former shape, but
remember, you must try to be something better than a Bee-man."

The Bee-man promised and was instantly changed into a baby. The fairy
inoculated him from harm with a bee-sting, and gave him to the rescued
infant's mother.

Nearly a cycle passed by, and one day the fairy having business in the
valley, thought she would make inquiries concerning her protege. In her
way she happened to pass a little, low, curious hut, with many bee hives
about it, and swarms of bees flying in and out. The fairy, tired as
well as curious, peeped in and discovered an ancient man attending to
the wants of his pets. Upon a closer inspection, she recognized her
infant of years ago. He had become a bee-man again!

* * * * *

"It points a pretty little moral," said the Fatalist, "for it certainly
proves that do what we will, we cannot get away from our natures. It was
inherent in that man's nature to tend bees. Bee-ing was the occupation
chosen for him by Fate, and had the beneficent Fairy changed him a dozen
times, he would ultimately have gone to bee-ing in some form or other."

The Fatalist was doubtless right, for it seems as though the inherent
things in our nature must come out. But if we want to dig deep into the
child's story for metaphysical morals, does it not also uphold the
theory of re-incarnation? the ancient bee-man, perhaps is but a type of
humanity growing old, and settled in its mode of living, while the fairy
is but thought, whispering into our souls things half dread half
pleasant.

There are moments when the consciousness of a former life comes sharply
upon us, in swift, lightning flashes, too sudden to be tangible, too
dazzling to leave an impress, or mayhap, in troubled dreams that
bewilder and confuse with vague remembrances. If only a burst of memory
would come upon some mortal, that the tale might be fully told, and
these theories e