Instead of serried rows of bees sealing up every gap in the combs and keeping the
brood warm, he sees the skillful complex structures of the combs, but no longer in their former state of purity.
They heard a frame crack stickily, saw it heaved high and twirled round between enormous hands--a blotched, bulged, and perished horror of grey wax, corrupt
brood, and small drone-cells, all covered with crawling Oddities, strange to the sun.
Nothing there is motionless - Nothing save the airs that
brood Over the magic solitude.
Not long after they had agreed upon this plan, the Eagle, being in want of provision for her young ones, swooped down while the Fox was out, seized upon one of the little cubs, and feasted herself and her
brood. The Fox on her return, discovered what had happened, but was less grieved for the death of her young than for her inability to avenge them.
"Don't
brood too much," she wrote to Helen, "on the superiority of the unseen to the seen.
The truth was, that the little Puritans, being of the most intolerant
brood that ever lived, had got a vague idea of something outlandish, unearthly, or at variance with ordinary fashions, in the mother and child, and therefore scorned them in their hearts, and not unfrequently reviled them with their tongues.
It will serve to keep the squatter and his
brood under cover, and for ourselves there is little reason to fear.
And she rose up and drove them before her, till the bride saw them from her window, and was so pleased that she came forth and asked her if she would sell the
brood.
His deep, oval-shaped eyes were fixed upon the flames, but behind the superficial glaze seemed to
brood an observant and whimsical spirit, which kept the brown of the eye still unusually vivid.
Happily, however, during that spring, they never, but once, got anything but empty nests, or eggs--being too impatient to leave them till the birds were hatched; that once, Tom, who had been with his uncle into the neighbouring plantation, came running in high glee into the garden, with a
brood of little callow nestlings in his hands.
Foremost through the sparkling sea shoots on the gay, embattled, bantering bow, but only to drag dark Ahab after it, where he
broods within his sternward cabin, builded over the dead water of the wake, and further on, hunted by its wolfish gurglings.
The more tensely he
brooded over the salient points in the life-history of his wife's brother, Bertie Baxter, the deeper did the iron become embedded in his soul.