From a Yorkshire Womans Notebook - Honeys Bouquet

I am lost in admiration of those experts who can judge honey, It must be an art like that of the tea - taster, At a recent Bee-Keeper's' Exhibition I saw row upon row of uniform Jars each filled with a liquid which, to the unpractised eye, appeared equally golden and equally translucent. 

An exhibitor strolled up with a friend. 

“This is the first year I've missed taking a prize”, he remarked ruefully, picking up his jar and regarding it with hurt pride. The friend made commiserating sounds. 

"Here - - smell it!” cried the owner, and, twisting off the cap, he thrust the jar under the nose of his companion, who sniffed and breathed "Ah" appreciatively. 

"Ah!" echoed the other, transferring it to his own nose. 

I left them savouring the bouquet, my respect for the judges even greater than before.