fore she could be conveyed back to the
royal cell. I was, therefore, able to see the conduct of the bees during
her illness and after her death.

When she fell to the floor, the bees seemed to know at once that
something out of the ordinary had happened. The sick queen was
immediately surrounded by a dense circle of her subjects, those next to
her licking her with their tongues and endeavoring to raise her to her
feet.

When she died they were a little slow in recognizing the fact, but when
they did realize that she was dead those nearest the dead sovereign set
up a loud buzzing. This was transmitted from circle to circle, from bee
to bee, until the entire hive was in an uproar. The bees rushed to and
fro bewailing their loss, and seemingly crazed by grief. All work was
immediately suspended, and even the young were abandoned and left, for
the time being, to shift for themselves. Those bees which returned to
the hive laden with honey did not put it into the cells but retained it
in their honey-bags. In fact, the entire social economy of the hive was
disrupted and disarranged, and this confusion lasted for hours. After
about twenty-four hours of mourning for the dead queen the bees
recovered their equanimity, and began the work of rearing another queen
from a worker larva.

In another chapter of this book (vid. Memory) I have related an
instance of complex ideation in a bird. I have reference to the sparrow
whose young was saved from a snake, and which remembered the lad who
destroyed its enemy. This bird undoubtedly showed gratitude. Another
correspondent writes: "Knowing your love for, and your interest in, all
animals, I think my experience with two house wrens this summer will
entertain you. These birds selected for their home an old boot, which
they discovered on a bench in an outhouse. Here they built their nest,
and, in the course of time, had the great pleasure of welcoming into the
world two interesting 'wrenlets.'

"One day, while feeding my pigeons, I noticed that the old wrens were
greatly disturbed by something or other. They kept flying about me,
uttering sharp, complaining cries; they would now and then fly to the
outhouse, and then back to me. At last it occurred to me that some
accident might have befallen the young wrens, so I proceeded to
investigate, and soon discovered the trouble.

"Some one, in rummaging about the room, had overturned the boot, which
had fallen in such manner that the top pre