d upon it, in the hopes that
the soothing sound would induce the swarm to settle at once on
his own apple trees.

Is "tanging" a superstition or not? People learned in bees ought
to know, but I never happened to meet one who had settled the
question. It is curious how such beliefs or superstitions fix
themselves in the popular mind of a countryside, and are held by
wise and simple alike. David the constable was a most sensible
and open-minded man of his time and class, but Kemble or Akerman,
or other learned Anglo-Saxon scholars would have vainly explained
to him that "tang", is but the old word for "to hold", and that
the object of "tanging" is, not to lure the bees with sweet music
of key and shovel, but to give notice to the neighbours that they
have swarmed, and that the owner of the maternal hive means to
hold on to his right to the emigrants. David would have listened
to the lecture with pity, and have retained unshaken belief in
his music.

In the present case, however, the tanging was of little avail,
for the swarm, after wheeling once or twice in the air,
disappeared from the eyes of the constable over the rector's
wall. He went on "tanging" violently for a minute or two, and
then paused to consider what was to be done. Should he get over
the wall into the rector's garden at once, or should he go round
and ask leave to carry his search into the parsonage grounds? As
a man and bee-fancier he was on the point of following straight
at once, over wall and fence; but the constable was also strong
within him. He was not on the best of terms with old Simon, the
rector's gardener, and his late opposition to Miss Winter in the
matter of the singing also came into his mind. So he resolved
that the parish constable would lose caste by disregarding his
neighbour's boundaries, and was considering what to do next, when
he heard a footstep and short cough on the other side of the wall
which he recognized.

"Be you there, Maester Simon?" he called out. Where upon the
walker on the other side pulled up, and after a second appeal
answered shortly--

"E'es."

"Hev'ee seed ought o' my bees? Thaay've a bin' and riz, and gone
off somweres athert the wall."

"E'es, I seen 'em."

"Wer' be 'em then?"

"Aal-amang wi' ourn in the limes."

"Aal-amang wi'yourn," exclaimed the constable. "Drattle 'em.
Thaay be more trouble than they be wuth."

"I knowd as thaay wur yourn zoon as ever I sot eyes on 'em," old
Simon went on.