Usually I only write posts about updates on Spelling Bee Assistant but today is different.
As it appears somebody is copying Bill Shunn's work. He published this tweet: https://twitter.com/beesolved/status/1653428414215507968. I guess I don't need to explain how much good Bill brings to the Spelling Bee community on a daily basis.
As the author of Spelling Bee Assistant I can only speak for myself but I suppose I can give you an idea how frustrating such a ripoff must be. Spelling Bee Assistant took a lot of time to develop - months in fact. It took a lot of time to rewrite and to rewrite again before it became what it is today.
Since I distribute for free, all I get out of it are the bragging rights. There is also that pride that I can build stuff like this, I get often nice comments from users and sometimes even a cuppa on my ko-fi account. It's not really part of my income but given the size of Spelling Bee Solver, things could well be different over there.
So everybody happy then? Well, at least I was until I saw that tweet. Dunno what I would do if I was in his shoes but I most certainly would be gutted, to say the least. You build something nice, you share it with the world and then someone has the audacity to copy it and to claim it was his own creation.
Community, please do not fall for the ripoff the tweet is about. Do not support that site or their Youtube channel in a any way.
Thank you for listening to my rant

• https://reactle.vercel.app/
• https://www.wordiply.com/
• https://freebee.fun/play/

if you want hints on free bee you can use Shunn's solver - https://www.sbsolver.com

I use Shunn's website a few times a week for help with the Bee. I finally looked into his book, the Accidental Terrorist, and found that it was available as an ebook at my library.
Just got done reading it and it is awesome! It's about his time as a Mormon missionary in Canada, and how he struggled with not really believing in Mormonism while being totally isolated from home.
It's very well-written and entertaining, while taking a measured but decidedly critical view of the faith with comprehensive historical accuracy.
Just don't watch the clip of him in the audience at a standup performance until you finish reading... gives away the major plot point!

PODCAST: https://ayearofwarandpeace.podbean.com/e/ep1299-the-oxford-book-of-english-verse-john-milton-part-3/
POET: John Milton. b. 1608, d. 1674
PAGE: 311-347
PROMPTS: BYO

Il Penseroso HENCE vain deluding joyes, The brood of folly without father bred, How little you bested, Or fill the fixèd mind with all your toyes; Dwell in som idle brain, And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, As thick and numberless As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams, Or likest hovering dreams The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train. But hail thou Goddes, sage and holy, Hail divinest Melancholy, Whose Saintly visage is too bright To hit the Sense of human sight; And therfore to our weaker view, Ore laid with black staid Wisdoms hue. Black, but such as in esteem, Prince Memnons sister might beseem, Or that Starr’d Ethiope Queen that strove To set her beauties praise above The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended. Yet thou art higher far descended, Thee bright-hair’d Vesta long of yore, To solitary Saturn bore; His daughter she (in Saturns raign, Such mixture was not held a stain) Oft in glimmering Bowres, and glades He met her, and in secret shades Of woody Ida’s inmost grove, Whilst yet there was no fear of Jove. Com pensive Nun, devout and pure,{326} Sober, stedfast, and demure, All in a robe of darkest grain, Flowing with majestick train, And sable stole of Cipres Lawn, Over thy decent shoulders drawn. Com, but keep thy wonted state, With eev’n step, and musing gate, And looks commercing with the skies, Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes: There held in holy passion still, Forget thy self to Marble, till With a sad Leaden downward cast, Thou fix them on the earth as fast. And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring, Ay round about Joves Altar sing. And adde to these retirèd Leasure, That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure; But first, and chiefest, with thee bring, Him that yon soars on golden wing, Guiding the fiery-wheelèd throne, The Cherub Contemplation, And the mute Silence hist along, ’Less Philomel will daign a Song, In her sweetest, saddest plight, Smoothing the rugged brow of night, While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke, Gently o’re th’accustom’d Oke; Sweet Bird that shunn’st the noise of folly, Most musicall, most melancholy! Thee Chauntress oft the Woods among, I woo to hear thy eeven-Song;{327} And missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven Green, To behold the wandring Moon, Riding neer her highest noon, Like one that had bin led astray Through the Heav’ns wide pathles way; And oft, as if her head she bow’d, Stooping through a fleecy cloud. Oft on a Plat of rising ground, I hear the far-off Curfeu sound Over som wide-water’d shoar, Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or if the Ayr will not permit, Som still removèd place will fit. Where glowing Embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, Far from all resort of mirth, Save the Cricket on the hearth, Or the Belmans drousie charm, To bless the dores from nightly harm: Or let my Lamp at midnight hour, Be seen in som high lonely Towr, Where I may oft out-watch the Bear, With thrice great Hermes, or unsphear The spirit of Plato to unfold What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook: And of those Dæmons that are found In fire, air, flood, or under ground, Whose power hath a true consent With Planet, or with Element. Som time let Gorgeous Tragedy{328} In Scepter’d Pall com sweeping by, Presenting Thebs, or Pelops line, Or the tale of Troy divine. Or what (though rare) of later age, Ennoblèd hath the Buskind stage. But, O sad Virgin, that thy power Might raise Musæeus from his bower Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as warbled to the string, Drew Iron tears down Pluto’s cheek, And made Hell grant what Love did seek. Or call up him that left half told The story of Cambuscan bold, Of Camball, and of Algarsife, And who had Canace to wife, That own’d the vertuous Ring and Glass, And of the wondrous Hors of Brass, On which the Tartar King did ride; And if ought els, great Bards beside, In sage and solemn tunes have sung, Of Turneys and of Trophies hung; Of Forests, and inchantments drear, Where more is meant then meets the ear. Thus night oft see me in thy pale career, Till civil-suited Morn appeer, Not trickt and frounc’t as she was wont, With the Attick Boy to hunt, But Cherchef’t in a comly Cloud, While rocking Winds are Piping loud, Or usher’d with a shower still, When the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the russling Leaves, With minute drops from off the Eaves.{329} And when the Sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me Goddes bring To archèd walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown that Sylvan loves, Of Pine, or monumental Oake, Where the rude Ax with heavèd stroke, Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallow’d haunt. There in close covert by som Brook, Where no profaner eye may look, Hide me from Day’s garish eie, While the Bee with Honied thie, That at her flowry work doth sing, And the Waters murmuring With such consort as they keep, Entice the dewy-feather’d Sleep; And let som strange mysterious dream, Wave at his Wings in Airy stream, Of lively portrature display’d, Softly on my eye-lids laid. And as I wake, sweet musick breath Above, about, or underneath, Sent by som spirit to mortals good, Or th’unseen Genius of the Wood. But let my due feet never fail, To walk the studious Cloysters pale, And love the high embowèd Roof, With antick Pillars massy proof, And storied Windows richly dight, Casting a dimm religious light. There let the pealing Organ blow, To the full voic’d Quire below, In Service high, and Anthems cleer,{330} As may with sweetnes, through mine ear, Dissolve me into extasies, And bring all Heav’n before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peacefull hermitage, The Hairy Gown and Mossy Cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every Star that Heav’n doth shew, And every Herb that sips the dew; Till old experience do attain To somthing like Prophetic strain. These pleasures Melancholy give, And I with thee will choose to live. 312. From ‘Arcades’ O’re the smooth enameld green Where no print of step hath been, Follow me as I sing, And touch the warbled string. Under the shady roof Of branching Elm Star-proof, Follow me, I will bring you where she sits Clad in splendor as befits Her deity. Such a rural Queen All Arcadia hath not seen. 

I created BeeSquared.ga to replicate some of the old functionality of WorkerBee.io, analyzing the words you've found and checking them off the grid (which I'm calling a square to stretch the pun a little too thin) and the two-letter list for you.
I've made some modifications to how it works to avoid some of the legal pitfalls that WorkerBee.io fell in to, and while some of the UI was borrowed from WorkerBee.io, all the code that does the calculations was written from scratch. Unlike the old version of WorkerBee.io, you can't type words in, you have to copy and paste the entire list from the Spelling Bee app or website, so you can't use BeeSquared to play the game if you don't have access to the NYT. I have various checks in place to make sure that you're pasting your words directly from the NYT, but even if you format your word list identically, the site has no idea what the correct words are so it doesn't check that your answers are correct (and you can even end up with negative words remaining). I also have a few ideas up my sleeve if the NYT objects to this version, but I don't think I'm providing anything you can't already get from Shunn or NYTBee.com.
I've been dogfooding the site for the past couple of weeks, and it works for me with my devices, but please let me know here if you find any bugs. There are no ads on the site, I'm not asking for any donations, I just wanted to share my personal tool with the community.
EDIT: Heads up that at some point over the next few months I'll be transitioning the site to https://beesquared.win, due to some sketchiness with the way .ga domain names are sold (basically, if your site becomes too popular, they jack up the price). For now the .win site is just a redirect to the .ga one.

I wrote a python script that uses a dictionary file (there are many available on line) and solves for all the possible words that have the center letter and do not have "s". It works, but has many words that are not accepted in the Spelling Bee. I played around with some rules, but can't get it quite right. However, Shunn.net gets only the accepted words. The implication to me is that there is some dictionary file, or perhaps combination of files, that are being used that Shunn.net figured out. So when people complain about "Sam" not accepting words, could it be that it is not Sam but some unknown dictionary file that is at fault?

1. Do not post answers to or hints about today's Spelling Bee puzzle without hiding them. To hide a hint or answer, type a space, >, !, the word, !, <, and a space (so it looks like > ! WORD ! < but with no spaces between).
2. Proposed rule: When creating a new post, mark hints as HINTS and answers as ANSWERS
3. Posts or comments contains allowed words? Enclose them in > ! and ! < to hide them.
4. Want to complain about a word that's not accepted? See the wiki.
5. "PG x/y" means you found the pangram with x words and y points. Always hide this.

Other abbreviations we use:
GN4L - Genius without any four-letter words
Shunn - William Shunn’s solver site at https://www.shunn.net/bee/latest, or any of a number of similar solvers.

When you turn on ‘2 letter tally’, does this mean that it’s N words that start with XX? Or N words that contain XX?
And just to double check - L x 11 would mean there are 11 words starting with an L, right? 😂 sorry for dumb questions 😆
Thanks in advance 😃

William Shunn, creator of our oft-referenced Bee-helper app, is also a writer. I just read his memoir, The Accidental Terrorist, and enjoyed it a lot. On to his science fiction!

Bernard Mandeville (1670-1733) was a Dutch physician, prose writer, and social philosopher. After receiving his medical degree at the University of Leyden, Mandeville went to England, where he married and lived for the rest of his life. His best known work, The Fable of the Bees or, Public Vices, Public Benefits (1728), grew up as an extensive commentary on an earlier verse fable, The Grumbling Hive: or, Knaves Turn'd Honest (1705). In this poem, Mandeville explores the thesis that the subtitle of The Fable of the Bees proposes: private vices generate public benefits. The satisfaction of desires, the pursuit of selfish interests, the indulgence of appetites - these are the energies that fuel an active, productive society. In his own time, Mandeville was widely reviled as an advocate of "beneficial" vices such as pride, luxury, prodigality, and vanity. But he did not so much promote vice as satirize the hypocrisy that ignores the connection between what, within an ethical context, conventional morality denounces and, within an economic context, it celebrates. He explicates his propositions about society and human nature in "The Grumbling Hive," and in The Fable of the Bees analyzes society within arrange of contexts: economic, sociological, and psychological. In the selection from "A Search into the Nature of Society" excerpted here, Mandeville explains, with characteristic skepticism, the psychosomatic logic of an exchange between a mercer and his customer.
THE Grumbling Hive: OR,
K N A V E S
Turn’d HONEST.
A Spacious Hive well stock’d with Bees, That lived in Luxury and Ease; And yet as fam’d for Laws and Arms, As yielding large and early Swarms; Was counted the great Nursery Of Sciences and Industry. No Bees had better Government, More Fickleness, or less Content. They were not Slaves to Tyranny, Nor ruled by wild Democracy; But Kings, that could not wrong, because Their Power was circumscrib’d by Laws.
These Insects lived like Men, and all Our Actions they perform’d in small: They did whatever’s done in Town, And what belongs to Sword, or Gown: Tho’ th’Artful Works, by nible Slight; Of minute Limbs, ’scaped Human Sight Yet we’ve no Engines; Labourers, Ships, Castles, Arms, Artificers, Craft, Science, Shop, or Instrument, But they had an Equivalent: Which, since their Language is unknown, Must be call’d, as we do our own. As grant, that among other Things They wanted Dice, yet they had Kings; And those had Guards; from whence we may Justly conclude, they had some Play; Unless a Regiment be shewn Of Soldiers, that make use of none.
Vast Numbers thronged the fruitful Hive; Yet those vast Numbers made ’em thrive; Millions endeavouring to supply Each other’s Lust and Vanity; Whilst other Millions were employ’d, To see their Handy-works destroy’d; They furnish’d half the Universe; Yet had more Work than Labourers. Some with vast Stocks, and little Pains Jump’d into Business of great Gains; And some were damn’d to Sythes and Spades, And all those hard laborious Trades; Where willing Wretches daily sweat, And wear out Strength and Limbs to eat: Whilst others follow’d Mysteries, To which few Folks bind Prentices; That want no Stock, but that of Brass, And may set up without a Cross; As Sharpers, Parasites, Pimps, Players, Pick-Pockets, Coiners, Quacks, Sooth-Sayers, And all those, that, in Enmity With down-right Working, cunningly Convert to their own Use the Labour Of their good-natur’d heedless Neighbour: These were called Knaves; but, bar the Name, The grave Industrious were the Same. All Trades and Places knew some Cheat, No Calling was without Deceit.
The Lawyers, of whose Art the Basis Was raising Feuds and splitting Cases, Opposed all Registers, that Cheats Might make more Work with dipt Estates; As were’t unlawful, that one’s own, Without a Law-Suit, should be known. They kept off Hearings wilfully, To finger the retaining Fee; And to defend a wicked Cause, Examin’d and survey’d the Laws; As Burglars Shops and Houses do; To find out where they’d best break through.
Physicians valued Fame and Wealth Above the drooping Patient’s Health, Or their own Skill: The greatest Part Study’d, instead of Rules of Art, Grave pensive Looks, and dull Behaviour; To gain th’Apothecary’s Favour, The Praise of Mid wives, Priests and all, That served at Birth, or Funeral; To bear with th’ever-talking Tribe, And hear my Lady’s Aunt prescribe; With formal Smile, and kind How d’ye, To fawn on all the Family; And, which of all the greatest Curse is, T’endure th’Impertinence of Nurses.
Among the many Priests of Jove, Hir’d to draw Blessings from Above, Some few were learn’d and eloquent, But Thousands hot and ignorant: Yet all past Muster, that could hide Their Sloth, Lust, Avarice and Pride; For which, they were as famed, as Taylors For Cabbage; or for Brandy, Sailors: Some meagre look’d, and meanly clad Would mystically pray for Bread, Meaning by that an ample Store, Yet lit’rally receiv’d no more; And, whilst these holy Drudges starv’d, Some lazy Ones, for which they serv’d, Indulg’d their Ease, with all the Graces Of Health and Plenty in their Faces.
The Soldiers, that were forced to fight, If they survived, got Honour by’t; Tho’ some, that shunn’d the bloody Fray, Had Limbs shot off, that ran away: Some valiant Gen’rals fought the Foe; Others took Bribes to let them go: Some ventur’d always, where ’twas warm; Lost now a Leg, and then an Arm; Till quite disabled, and put by, They lived on half their Salary; Whilst others never came in Play, And staid at Home for Double Pay.
Their Kings were serv’d; but Knavishly Cheated by their own Ministry; Many, that for their Welfare slaved, Robbing the very Crown they saved: Pensions were small, and they lived high, Yet boasted of their Honesty. Calling, whene’er they strain’d their Right, The slipp’ry Trick a Perquisite; And, when Folks understood their Cant, They chang’d that for Emolument; Unwilling to be short, or plain, In any thing concerning Gain: For there was not a Bee, but would Get more, I won’t say, than he should; But than he dared to let them know, That pay’d for’t; as your Gamesters do, That, tho’ at fair Play, ne’er will own Before the Losers what they’ve won.
But who can all their Frauds repeat! The very Stuff, which in the Street They sold for Dirt t’enrich the Ground, Was often by the Buyers sound Sophisticated with a Quarter Of Good-for-nothing, Stones and Mortar; Tho’ Flail had little Cause to mutter, Who sold the other Salt for Butter.
Justice her self, famed for fair Dealing, By Blindness had not lost her Feeling; Her Left Hand, which the Scales should hold, Had often dropt ’em, bribed with Gold; And, tho’ she seem’d impartial, Where Punishment was corporal, Pretended to a reg’lar Course, In Murther, and all Crimes of Force; Tho’ some, first Pillory’d for Cheating, Were hang’d in Hemp of their own beating; Yet, it was thought, the Sword the bore Check’d but the Desp’rate and the Poor; That, urg’d by mere Necessity, Were tied up to the wretched Tree For Crimes, which not deserv’d that Fate, But to secure the Rich, and Great.
Thus every Part was full of Vice, Yet the whole Mass a Paradice; Flatter’d in Peace, and fear’d in Wars They were th’Esteem of Foreigners, And lavish of their Wealth and Lives, The Ballance of all other Hives. Such were the Blessings of that State; Their Crimes conspired to make ’em Great; And Vertue, who from Politicks Had learn’d a Thousand cunning Tricks, Was, by their happy Influence, Made Friends with Vice: And ever since The worst of all the Multitude Did something for the common Good.
This was the State’s Craft, that maintain’d The Whole, of which each Part complain’d: This, as in Musick Harmony, Made Jarrings in the Main agree; Parties directly opposite Assist each oth’r, as ’twere for Spight; And Temp’rance with Sobriety Serve Drunkenness and Gluttonny.
The Root of evil Avarice, That damn’d ill-natur’d baneful Vice, Was Slave to Prodigality, That Noble Sin; whilst Luxury. Employ’d a Million of the Poor, And odious Pride a Million more Envy it self, and Vanity Were Ministers of Industry; Their darling Folly, Fickleness In Diet, Furniture, and Dress, That strange, ridic’lous Vice, was made The very Wheel, that turn’d the Trade. Their Laws and Cloaths were equally Objects of Mutability; For, what was well done for a Time, In half a Year became a Crime; Yet whilst they alter’d thus their Laws, Still finding and correcting Flaws, They mended by Inconstancy Faults, which no Prudence could foresee.
Thus Vice nursed Ingenuity, Which join’d with Time; and Industry Had carry’d Life’s Conveniencies, It’s real Pleasures, Comforts, Ease, To such a Height, the very Poor Lived better than the Rich before; And nothing could be added more:
How vain is Mortals Happiness! Had they but known the Bounds of Bliss; And, that Perfection here below Is more, than Gods can well bestow, The grumbling Brutes had been content With Ministers and Government. But they, at every ill Success, Like Creatures lost without Redress, Cursed Politicians, Armies, Fleets; Whilst every one cry’d, Damn the Cheats, And would, tho’ Conscious of his own, In Others barb’rously bear none.
One, that had got a Princely Store, By cheating Master, King, and Poor, Dared cry aloud; The Land must sink For all its Fraud; And whom d’ye think The Sermonizing Rascal chid? A Glover that sold Lamb for Kid.
The last Thing was not done amiss, Or cross’d the Publick Business; But all the Rogues cry’d brazenly, Good Gods, had we but Honesty! Merc’ry smiled at th’Impudence; And Others call’d it want of Sence, Always to rail at what they loved: But Jove, with Indignation moved, At last in Anger swore, he’d rid The bawling Hive of Fraud, and did. The very Moment it departs, And Honsty fills all their Hearts; There shews ’em, like the Instructive Tree, Those Crimes, which they’re ashamed to see? Which now in Silence they confess, By Blushing at their Uglyness; Like Children, that would hide their Faults, And by their Colour own their Thoughts; Imag’ning, when they’re look’d upon, That others see, what they have done.
But, Oh ye Gods! What Consternation, How vast and sudden was the Alteration! In half an Hour, the Nation round, Meat fell a Penny in the Pound. The Mask Hypocrisie’s flung down, From the great Statesman to the Clown: And some, in borrow’d Looks well known, Appear’d like Strangers in their own. The Bar was silent from that Day; For now the willing Debtors pay, Even what’s by Creditors forgot; Who quitted them, who had it not. Those, that were in the Wrong, stood mute, And dropt the patch’d vexatious Suit. On which, since nothing less can thrive, Than Lawyers in an honest Hive, All, except those, that got enough, With Ink-horns by their Sides trooped off.
Justice hang’d some, set others free; And, after Goal-delivery, Her Presence be’ng no more requier’d, With all her Train, and Pomp retir’d. First marched ’some Smiths, with Locks and Grates, Fetters, and Doors with Iron-Plates; Next Goalers, Turnkeys, and Assistants: Before the Goddess, at some distance, Her cheif and faithful Minister Squire Catch, the Laws great Finisher, Bore not th’imaginary Sword, But his own Tools, an Ax and Cord; Then on a Cloud the Hood-wink’d fair Justice her self was push’d by Air: About her Chariot, and behind, Were Sergeants, ’Bums of every kind, Tip-Staffs, and all those Officers, That squeese a Living out of Tears.
Tho’ Physick liv’d, whilst Folks were ill, None would prescribe, but Bees of Skill; Which, through the Hive dispers’d so wide, That none of ’em had need to ride, Waved vain Disputes; and strove to free The Patients of their Misery; Left Drugs in cheating Countries grown, And used the Product of their own, Knowing the Gods sent no Disease To Nations without remedies.
Their Clergy rouz’d from Laziness, Laid not their Charge on Journey-Bees; But serv’d themselves, exempt from Vice, The Gods with Pray’r and Sacrifice; All those, that were unfit, or knew, Their Service might be spared, withdrew; Nor was their Business for so many, (If th’Honest stand in need of any.) Few only with the High-Priest staid, To whom the rest Obedience paid: Himself, employ’d in holy Cares; Resign’d to others State Affairs: He chased no Starv’ling from his Door, Nor pinch’d the Wages of the Poor: But at his House the Hungry’s fed, The Hireling finds unmeasur’d Bread, The needy Trav’ler Board and Bed.
Among the King’s great Ministers, And all th’inferiour Officers The Change was great; for frugally They now lived on their Salary. That a poor Bee should Ten times come To ask his Due, a trifling Sum, And by some well hir’d Clerk be made, To give a Crown, or ne’er be paid; Would now be called a down-right Cheat, Tho’ formerly a Perquisite. All Places; managed first by Three, Who watch’d each other’s Knavery, And often for a Fellow-feeling, Promoted, one anothers Stealing, Are happily supply’d by one; By which some Thousands more are gone.
No Honour now could be content, To live, and owe for what was spent. Liveries in Brokers Shops are hung, They part with Coaches for a Song; Sell Stately Horses by whole Sets; And Country Houses to pay Debts.
Vain Cost is shunn’d as much as Fraud; They have no forces kept Abroad; Laugh at the Esteem of Foreigners, And empty Glory got by Wars; They fight but for their Country’s Sake, When Right or Liberty’s at Stake.
Now mind the glorious Hive, and see, How Honesty and Trade agree: The Shew is gone, it thins apace; And looks with quite another Face, For ’twas not only that they went, By whom vast Sums were Yearly spent; But Multitudes, that lived on them, Were daily forc’d to do the same. In vain to other Trades they’d fly; All were o’re-stocked accordingly.
The Price of Land, and Houses falls Mirac’lous Palaces, whose Walls, Like those of Thebes, were raised by Play, Are to be let; whilst the once gay, Well-seated Houshould Gods would be More pleased t’expire in Flames, than see; The mean Inscription on the Door Smile at the lofty Ones they bore. The Building Trace is quite destroy’d, Artificers are not employ’d; No Limner for his Art is famed; Stone-cutters, Garvers are not named.
Those, that remain’d, grown temp’rate, strive, So how to spend; but how to live; And, when they paid the Tavern Score, Resolv’d to enter it no more: No Vintners Jilt in all the Hive Could wear now Cloth of Gold and thrive; Nor Torcol; such vast sums advance, For Burgundy and Ortelans; The Courtier’s gone, that with his Miss Supp’d at his House on Christmass Peas; Spending as much in two Hours stay, As keeps a Troop of Horse a Day.
The Haughty Chloe; to live Great, Had made her Husband rob the State: But now she sells her Furniture, Which the Indies had been ransack’d for; [370] Contracts the expensive Bill of Fare, And wears her strong Suit a whole Year: The slight and fickle Age is past; And Cloaths, as wel as Fashions last. Weavers that ioyn’d rich Silk with Plate, And all the Trades subordinate, Are gone. Still Peace and Plenty reign, And every thing is cheap, tho’ plain; Kind Nature, free from Gard’ners Force, Allows all Fruits in her own Course; But Rarities cannot be had, Where Pains to get ’em are not paid.
As Pride and Luxury decrease, So by degrees they leave the Seas, Not Merchants now; but Companies Remove whole Manufacturies. All Arts and Crafts neglected lie; Content the Bane of Industry, Makes ’em admire their homely Store, And neither seek, nor covet more.
So few in the vast Hive remain; The Hundredth part they can’t maintain Against th’Insults of numerous Foes; Whom yet they valiantly oppose; Till some well-fenced Retreat is found; And here they die, or stand their Ground, No Hireling in their Armies known; But bravely fighting for their own; Their Courage and Integrity At last were crown’d with Victory. They triumph’d not without their Cost, For many Thousand Bees were lost. Hard’ned with Toils, and Exercise They counted Ease it self a Vice; Which so improv’d their Temperance, That to avoid Extravagance, They flew into a hollow tree, Blest with content and Honesty.
The M O R A L.
THEN leave Complaints: Fools only strive To make a Great an honest Hive. T’enjoy the World’s Conveniencies, Be famed in War, yet live in Ease Without great Vices, is a vain Eutopia seated in the Brain. Fraud, Luxury, and Pride must live; Whilst we the Benefits receive. Hunger’s a dreadful Plague no doubt, Yet who digests or thrives without? Do we not owe the Growth of Wine To the dry, crooked, shabby Vine? Which, whist its shutes neglected stood, Choak’d other Plants, and ran to Wood; But blest us with his Noble Fruit; As soon as it was tied, and cut: So Vice is beneficial found, When it’s by Justice lopt and bound; Nay, where the People would be great, As necessary to the State, At Hunger is to make ’em eat. Bare Vertue can’t make Nations live In Splendour; they, that would revive A Golden Age, must be as free, For Acorns, as for Honesty.

Genius - 64 (GN4L - 66/8 or 64/10 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 92/22
Pangrams - 01, Perfect? 00
Bingo? - (N)
Compound words - 01
^{Fun fact - this is the fourth time this letter set's being used.}
Stats courtesy of shunn.net (Mr. Shunn's ko-fi page)

Happy New Year('s Eve)!

Genius - 219 (GN4L - 222/30 or 219/33 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 313/65
Pangrams - 02, Perfect? 02
Bingo? - (Y)
Compound words - 03
Stats courtesy of shunn.net (You can buy Mr. Shunn a coffee, here)

Genius - 160 (GN4L - 163/22 or 164/24 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 229/46
Pangrams - 01, Perfect? 00
Bingo? - (N)
Compound words - 00
Stats courtesy of shunn.net (If you like these stats, consider buying Mr. Shunn a coffee, here)

Genius - 92 (GN4L - 94/15 or 95/17 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 131/32
Pangrams - 01, Perfect? 01
Bingo? - (Y)
Compound words - 01
Stats courtesy of shunn.net (If you like these stats, consider buying Mr. Shunn a coffee, here)

Hey, I've been doing the Spelling Bee daily for a few weeks now, and I'm just wondering if there's a post somewhere with all the nomenclature and instructions for how to read the stats posted on shunn and on Reddit? I think I've figured out a few (e.g. GN4L is Genius no 4 letter words?), but I'm still quite lost on the whole, especially with the tables and letter breakdowns! Any help much appreciated!

Genius - 62 (GN4L - 65/9 or 65/11 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 89/21
Pangrams - 01, Perfect? 00
Bingo? - (Y)
Compound words - 03
Stats courtesy of shunn.net (If you like these stats, consider buying Mr. Shunn a coffee, here)

Genius - 111 (GN4L - 115/15 or 115/19 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 158/34 ^{(Fun fact: Queen Bee = twice the number of points required for Amazing})
Pangrams - 02, Perfect? 00
Bingo? - (Y)
Compound words - 03

Prefix counter
Mono	02
Homo	03

Stats courtesy of shunn.net (If you like these stats, consider buying Mr. Shunn a coffee, here)

Genius - 106 (GN4L - 106/16 or 110/19 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 151/37 ^{(Fun fact: Queen Bee = twice the number of points required for Amazing})
Pangrams - 01, Perfect? 00
Bingo? - (N)
Compound words - 03
Stats courtesy of shunn.net

Genius - 83 (GN4L - 84/12 or 83/14 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 118/26 ^{(Fun fact: Queen Bee = twice the number of points required for Amazing})
Pangrams - 01, Perfect? 00
Bingo? - (N)
Compound words - 04 (Repeated compound words - 01)
Stats courtesy of shunn.net

Genius - 123 (GN4L - 125/19 or 124/21 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 176/42 ^{(Fun fact: Queen Bee = twice the number of points required for Amazing})
Pangrams - 01, Perfect? 00
Bingo? - (Y)
Compound words - 01
Stats courtesy of shunn.net

Genius - 160 GN4L >!162/28!< (>!163/30!< without pangram) Queen Bee - >!229/49!< Pangrams - >!01!< Perfect? >!Y!< Bingo? - >!(N)!< Compound words? >!00!<
Stats courtesy of shunn.net
Math corrections welcomed!

Genius - 88 (GN4L - 89/14 or 88/16 without pangram(s))
Queen Bee - 125/26 ^{(Fun fact: Queen Bee = twice the number of points required for Amazing})
Pangrams - 01, Perfect? 00
Bingo? - (N)
Compound words - 00
Stats courtesy of shunn.net