TOO BUSY BEES

Greymouth Evening Star, 5 December 1928, Page 8

TOO BUSY BEES

CH.CH. STREET INCIDENTS

(Special to "Star.”)

CHRISTCHURCH, Dec. 4.

Traffic in Cashel Street, between High Street and Manchester Street, came to a dead stop to-day, shortly after 11 a.m., for about half an hour. Vehicles took alternative routes. Motorists approached, tooted their horns, saw the cause of the trouble and retreated. Cyclists followed their example, and even pedestrians declined to go on. A swarm of bees had complete possession. They violated every known traffic regulation with complete impunity. They regarded the street as theirs. Nobody disputed it. People who were early on the scene saw what looked like a great agitated cloud low down between the buildings. The air was thick with thousands and thousands of bees. They hovered for a long time within the space of a couple of hundred yards, then commenced to converge around the telephone box that serves the taxi stand at that point. The door of the telephone booth was open. Though the taxi men were greatly agitated as to whether they were going to be deprived of the use of the booth there were no volunteers to go in to close the door. A big crowd of people rapidly gathered, engrossed by the novel spectacle, small boys, as usual, being in the majority. For the greater part, they showed a good deal more courage than their seniors. Motorist after motorist approached, tooted imperiously, saw what the bother was and retreated ingloriously amid general laughter. Then at last attention of the authorities was directed to the crowd blockage. In due course, authority represented by a traffic official duly arrived.

A small boy was mildly reprimanded for blocking the way with his bicycle. “Aw, I ain’t blocking traffic. It’s those blokes,” retorted the boy pointing to the cloud of bees. “But you can’t move those on,” he added.

“They’ve got you beat, Bill,” cried somebody else. The traffic man admitted it. There was nothing to do but to leave the street to the bees. He did it.

Meantime,' the air about the telephone booth was thick with bees. Then the telephone rang. “Telephone Sam,’’ yelled several people, but the man addressed had no desire to figure as a hero, by answering a telephone under fire. The telephone rang again. He let it ring. “I wouldn’t give you half a dollar for your taxi,” said somebody to the proprietor of the foremost taxi on the stand. It was covered with bees, and the owner did not seem inclined to assert his legal rights. For some time it seemed doubtful whether the bees would take possession of the taxi or telephone booth, then the man who knows everything about bees arrived. He got a small box that was standing nearby, inverted it over the gutter. He picked up handfuls of the bees.that had settled, and put them in the box. For some little time, his operations seemed to have the effect of only making the cloud thicker. ** He kept the crowd amazed for some time by the coolness with which he handled the bees. Then he left only to return a few minutes later with some honey. This he placed on the box. It proved efficacious in enticing the bees into the box, but getting them settled proved a lengthy process. There wore still many stragglers buzzing about at noon, hut by that time traffic had been able to resume its normal way.