ページの画像
PDF
ePub

Now there hangs from the top of the vault a small block of wax which is yet without form. As soon as it appears to be thick enough there comes out of the group another bee bearing an entirely different aspect from that of those which have preceded it. One may well believe on seeing the certainty, the determination with which it goes about this work and the manner in which those that stand round about it look on, that it is an expert engineer who has come to construct in space the place which the first cell shall occupy, the cell from which must mathematically depend everything which is afterwards constructed. Whatever it may be, this bee belongs to a class of the sculpturing, of chisel working bees that produce no wax and whose function seems to be to employ the materials with which the others furnish them. This bee then chooses the place of the first cell.

It digs for a moment in the block of wax which has already been placed in position, and builds up the side of the cell with the wax that it picks from the cavity. Then in exactly the same way as its predecessors have done, it suddenly leaves the work it has designed; another impatient worker replaces it and carries it on another step, which is finished by a third one. In the meantime others are working round about it according to the same method of division of labor until the outer side of each wall is finished.

It would almost seem that an essential law of the hive

was that every worker should take a pride in its work, and that all the work should be done in common, and so to speak, unanimously, in order that the fraternal spirit should not be disturbed by a sense of jealousy.

From "The Life of the Bee."

SIGURD AND GREYFELL

BY WILLIAM MORRIS

For a boy who loved mediæval life, as did William Morris, what a delight it must have been to live in an old English country-house which had a moat and a wooded island! Morris haunted the early Norman churches of the country-side, and knew Epping Forest "yard by yard." At school he made up tales of knights and fairies to tell his mates. Yet he was wholesomely like other boys, and wrote home for "a good large cake" and for his silkworm eggs to be sent to him. At Oxford College Morris began his lifelong friendship with Burne-Jones, the painter. He himself "went from craft to craft by a series of leaps and

bounds." In his writings he reflects strongly the spirit of the old sagas, many of whose stories he has retold. Red House, which he designed out of his love for bright and beautiful color, is one of England's famous homes. [Born in 1834-died in 1896]

[graphic]

On the death, in battle, of King Sigmund, so say the Norse sagas, his wife finds refuge in the household of King Elf. Her new-born

son is named, at the bidding of an ancient counselor, Sigurd, or Victory. In the king's court the young prince grows up a noble youth. Regin, the wizard-master of the court, instructs him in all the arts of a brave manhood, and incites him to a life of valor by relating the brave deeds of the boy's father.

On a day he sat with Regin amidst the unfashioned gold, And the silver grey from the furnace, and Regin spoke and told

Sweet tales of the days that have been, and the Kings of the bold and wise,

Till the lad's heart swelled with longing and lit his sun

bright eyes.

Then Regin looked upon him:

ride

"Thou too shalt one day

As the Volsung Kings went faring through the noble world

and wide.

For this land is nought and narrow, and Kings of the carles are these,

And their earls are acre-biders, and their hearts are dull with peace."

But Sigurd knit his brows, and in wrathful wise he said: "Ill words of those thou speakest that my youth have

cherished,

And the friends that have made me merry, and the land that is fair and good."

Then Regin laughed and answered: "Nay, well I see by

thy mood

That wide wilt thou ride in the world like thy kin of the earlier days;

And wilt thou be wroth with thy master that he longs for thy winning the praise?

"And now if the sooth thou sayest, that these King-folk cherish thee well,

Then let them give thee a gift whereof the world shall tell : Yea hearken to this my counsel, and crave for a battle

steed."

Yet wroth was the lad and answered: "I have many a horse to my need,

And all that the heart desireth, and what wouldst thou wish me more?"

Then Regin answered and said: "Thy kin of the Kings of

yore

Were the noblest men of men-folk; and their hearts would never rest

Whatso of good they had gotten, if their hands held not the best.

Now do thou after my counsel, and crave of thy fosterers

here

That thou choose of the horses of Gripir whichso thine heart holds dear."

He spake and his harp was with him, and he smote the strings full sweet,

And sang of the host of the Valkyrs, how they ride the battle to meet,

And the dew from the dear manes drippeth as they ride in the first of the sun,

And the tree-boughs open to meet it when the wind of the dawning is done:

And the deep dales drink its sweetness and spring into blossoming grass,

And the earth groweth fruitful of men, and bringeth their glory to pass.

Then the wrath ran off from Sigurd, and he left the smithying stead

While the song yet rang in the doorway: and that eve to the Kings he said:

"Will

ye do so much for mine asking as to give me a horse to my will?

For belike the days shall come, that shall all my heart

fulfill,

And teach me the deeds of a king."

Then answered King Elf and spake:

"The stalls of the Kings are before thee to set aside or

to take,

And nought we begrudge thee the best.

« 前へ次へ »