"Have ye stood of a bright summer day to watch the little people o'
the field?--those millions that throng the grass an' fly in the
sunlight--bird an' bee an' ant an' bug an' butterfly? 'Tis a land
flowing with milk an' honey--but hear me, good men, not one o' them
may take as much as would fill the mouth of a cricket unless he
pays the price.
"One day I saw an ant trying to rob a thistle-blow. Now the law o'
the field is that none shall have honey who cannot sow for the
flower. While a bee probes he gathers the seed-dust in his hairy
jacket, an' away he flies, sowing it far an' wide. Now, an ant is
in no-wise able to serve a thistle-blow, but he is ever trying to
rob her house. Knowing her danger, she has put around it a
wonderful barricade. Down at the root her stem has a thicket o'
fuzz an' hair. I watched the little thief, an' he was a long time
passing through it. Then he came on a barrier o' horny-edged
leaves. Underneath they were covered with thick, webby hairs an'
he sank over his head in them an' toiled long; an' lo! when he had
passed them there was yet another row o' leaves curving so as to
weary an' bewilder him, an' thick set with thorns. Slowly he
climbed, coming ever to some dread obstruction.
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