Εικόνες σελίδας
Ηλεκτρ. έκδοση

so as to smell badly too, but it never resulted in any thing like foul brood at all; still, it may have done so in other apiaries. The strong point against it to me is, that it seems to involve spontaneous generation. Did a stalk of corn ever grow without a seed? or, if you please, did any plant ever grow without a seed? I believe the latest researches declare that it did not. Seeds of weeds are all through the soil, and, like the seeds of the Simpson plant, will lie any number of years and still germinate. Now, are seeds of foul brood all through all the bee-lives of our land? To use a phrase our young Canadians have brought us, I should say, "I don't think it."

Juvenile Department.

Every girl or boy, under 12 years of age, who writes a letter for this department will receive one of David Cook's excellent 5-cent Sunday school books. Many of these books contain the same matter that you find in Sunday-school books costing from $1.00 to $1.50.

[ocr errors]

HRISTMAS GIFT!" Mr. Root:-I am going

to school now. I am 11 years old. I am one of the boys who said," Papa! the beeswax!" I have a brother 13 years old (he is sick), and one little brother 3 years old. His name is George Washington. His eyes are as blue as indigo. Pa takes GLEANINGS, and I like to read what the young folks say. Pa has got 23 hives of bees. They are doing well so far this winter. You ought to see his hives, they look so pretty. Pa is building a new mill. My brother and I help him grind when not at school. JOHN G. STITES. Spring Station, Ind., Dec. 19, 1881. And so you are the boy who gave the alarm, are you, John? If I mistake not, we have a picture of your pa, right in this GLEANINGS. I am real glad your pa has got a mill. I had a mill once, and it ran by wind power; but it would grind corn all night when I was asleep, which I don't believe your mill will do, without anybody to tend it. Stand by your father. John, and help him to grind honest grists.

My pa keeps becs. He has got 60 swarms. They are all in chaff hives but 6; he lost only one swarm last winter. We take GLEANINGS, and like it very much. I do not like to have the bees sting me. We have your picture, with your little girl on your lap. Is that the one you call " Blue Eyes"? Have you got any little girls with black eyes? My eyes are black. I have one brother and one sister; they have black eyes too. We all like to sing. I go to school, nearly one mile away. I will be 9 years old the 7th of January. I haven't any bees, but I have some nice rabbits. They have pink eyes.


New London, Ohio, Dec. 9, 1881.



New London, Ohio.


Very well done indeed, girls. Yes, it is Blue Eyes who sits on my lap in the picture. We have three girls at our house, but they have all got blue eyes. Now I am going to guess that your father and mother both have black eyes. Haven't I guessed right? Little Daisy's block is sewed beautifully. I took it down and showed it to Blue Eyes and all the rest, and they all thought those nice fine stitches were wonderful for a little girl only seven. There are quite a lot of dolls at our house, and, if I remember, some of them have got the same trick of going round without any heads, just like your doll. I know your father Dan. He is the man who don't have his bees die winters.

My papa has 24 swarms of bees, and I helped him put 11 down cellar. I drew them on my sled. Some of his bees died last winter, but the imported one he got of you did not die. I am 8 years old.

Marshall, Calhoun Co., Mich. EDDIE M. HURD.

Well, that is a tiptop way to get bees down cellar, Eddie, and your letter and Writing are very fair for an 8-year old boy. You must tell us about the bees when you other from a little girl only 8 years old. Here is anhelp your pa take them out.

I am a little girl eight years old. My father has 22 stocks of black bees, but they make beautiful white honey. I am in the third book, and am in division. I go to Sunday-school. I got a book for a prize. I have two brothers and one sister. The baby's name is James Garfield. I like to read the Juvenile Department, and would like to sce Blue Eyes.

CATHERINE CHRISTENA. Westover, Purdy, Ont., Can., Dec. 1, 1881.

Thank you, friend Katy, if that is what they call you, and please give the baby a kiss for me. If Blue Eyes could see all her little friends, I suppose she would be so astonished she couldn't say a single word; but she talks enough around home. She had the toothache the other night, and had to sleep with her pa.

I am 11 years old. I study Fifth Reader, geography, grammar, Second and Third Part of arithmetic, spelling, and writing. I have two sisters and one brother. I do not like bees, for they sting. My pa keeps bees. I like to read Merrybanks and his neighbor. You said you would send a book to the boy or girl who wrote for the department, under 12 years of age; now be sure to send the book to me.

HALLIE A. BAIRD. Elm Grove, Ohio Co., West Va., Dec. 9, 1881. Well, Hallie, that is a pretty good letter, even if it doesn't tell very much about bees. It seems I have succeeded in pleasing the little folks with my Merrybanks story, if I haven't anybody else. In Sunday-school work, we think the man or woman who can interest and instruct a class of juveniles will do for almost any other post in the school, so I will try not to be discouraged. Your book has gone, Hallie, and we have got more than a wheelbarrow full of books to send to the boys and girls who write. Speaking of wheelbarrows reminds me that John is now

at work studying up one that he can sell for five cents on the front of his "hotel; " and when he gets a lot made I will give you a picture of them.

I am a girl ten years old. Grandpa keeps bees, and takes GLEANINGS, and I often read the children's letters, and I thought I would write too. Last winter, all of grandpa's bees died. There were 13 swarms Last July, the 10th, there was a nice swarm came here and went into a hive, and went to work before we saw them. Grandpa did not want them in that hive, so he changed them into another one. Now they are at work nicely. He bought 3 more swarms, and he has 4 to winter. Grandda sent off to Mr.

Burch for some bees, but they never came. I like
bees' honey, but I don't like them much, for they
sting me. I have a little brother who goes and sticks
his fingers into the holes where they come out. He
is 5 years old.
White's Valley, Wayne Co., Pa., Dec. 7, 1881.
Very well done, Luvan. You have given
several quite important facts, and they are
told, too, in quite a regular, orderly way. If
all the grown-up people ever get too lazy to
write any more letters, we might get up a
very good bee journal by the children's writ-
ings alone. We should probably get a good
many wholesome truths that we don't get


I am a little girl 11 years old. My brother takes GLEANINGS. I like to read about Mr. Merrybanks and his neighbor, it is so funny. My brother got a swarm of bees last spring. They swarmed four times; one swarm went off, and he sold one. He got stung twice, and it swelled up so that he could not see very well. I go to Sunday-school. I like to go very well. The teacher is our minister's wife. She is very nice indeed. I study the Fifth Reader, spelling, geography, arithmetic, history. My pa is a farmer; he keeps about 40 head of cattle; he built a silo last summer, and he is about to open it; but as he has not, I can not tell how it has kept. I like very much to read, so I thought I would write for the Juvenile Department. LIZZIE D. FLINT. Waterford, Oxford Co., Me., Dec. 8, 1881. Very good, Lizzie, and I want particularly to know about that silo. Please tell us next time how it turned out, won't you?

nicer than any person could do it. When winter
comes, my papa has to feed them sometimes. One
day I went with papa among the bees to help him.
I put a veil and a pair of gloves on, thinking they
could not sting me. The first bive we went to were
hybrids, and they were very cross. The next were
Italians, and I thought they would be still crosser;
but they were as quiet as could be. He took some
honey out, and when the other bees smelled the
fresh honey they began to rob, and I got two stings
in one hand. I have been stung lots of times since,
but I have never been among the bees since. I am
now 12 years old.

Wyandott, Kan., Dec. 7, 1881.

At school the other day, my teacher, Miss Farr, gave us bees as a subject for a composition; and as I had a pretty good one, papa said I might send it to


about making fdn. If all the little girls Very good, Mabel, especially the part would tell how they help their papas do such things, it might explain a good many matters to even our older readers, that we grown-up ones don't think of.

Well, Mr. Root, I am a sister of Julia Bannon, who has been writing to you, so I thought I would write you a letter and get a nice little book too. I am 13 years old. My pa gave me a stand of bees two years ago, and they swarmed this summer, and that made

me two stands of bees. Julia and I helped pa to pack the bees away in winter quarters last week.

we are going to send and get a yellow queen from

you for my bees in the spring, if we get them win-
tered all right. I read GLEANINGS, and think ever
so much of it. We have very nice and pleasant
weather here yet. I go to school and study reading,
writing, arithmetic, geography, grammar, spelling,
and drawing. My teacher's name is Miss Coplin. I
am a Sunday-зchool scholar, and I get a nice book
every Sunday. You will find inclosed 25 cents for
carpenter's dividers. I am going to make a present
to my pa of it.
Archie, Venango Co., Pa., Nov. 3, 1881.

I am always glad to know all the sisters, Dellie; but you didn't tell us how much honey you got. I hope your pa will like his present.


My dear young readers, we have now entered upon a new year. A merry Christmas and a happy New Year has echoed from ocean to ocean, and from pole to pole. We hope that you enjoyed the holidays, and that old Santa Claus came down your chimneys with a load for every one of you. If he did not bring you what you wanted, do not destroy

what you have, or treat your parents or friends unkindly, for they may have denied themselves some comfort to get what they did.


Bees are very busy little creatures, gathe ing honey in the summer, and eating up some in win

The two past seasons have been poor ones for ter. My papa has 50 stands of bees; some hybrids and every one, even boys and girls, should be ambi honey, which means little money for bec-keepers;

and some Italians. I often help him with the foundation for the bees. He has a machine for making foundation; he first melts the wax, and then dips a thin board in the can of wax two or three times, then cools it off in water. After he has enough sheeted he turns the crank of the machine, and I pull the wax through on the other side, and it is pressed all over in little squares; then he trims the edges, puts it in frames, and then puts it in the hive. The bees then work it out into cells, and fill them with honey, and seal it up, so that the honey can not run out; and when it is taken out it is sealed

tious to enter upon the new year free from debts of every kind, excepting the debt of gratitude which we owe to our kind heavenly Father for his watchful care over us in years past.

And now, children, as we are entering upon this new year, let us all, each and every one, strive to lay aside every thing not in accordance with that good old Golden Rule,

"Do unto others as you would
That they should do to you;
Whate'er is honest, just, and good,
With all your might pursue.

Peoria, Ill.



RIEND HUTCHINSON makes so good a point in the followin. we copy it entire from the Bee-Keepers' Exchange:

My queen-rearing nuclei were all united, every colony was ready for winter, and I was in the shop "putting things to rights" when there came a rap at the door. Upon opening the door I found standing there a gentleman past middle age; at the gate stood his horse and carriage. He introduced himself as Mr. Johnson, of Forest, and said.

"I saw in the Telegram your bee-keeping account for the year. I have kept bees several years, have tried to manage them upon the most approved plans; but, for some reason, I have never made any such profits as are shown by your account. I have driven over here purposely to see you and talk with you, and see if I could learn where I have made my mistakes."

"I may not be able to point out your mistakes, but I should be glad to hear how you have managed your


"Well, now, see here; if you are not too busy, just get into my carriage, and in less than an hour I will set you down at my place; and then I wish you to criticise every bee-keeping arrangement that you see."

In the honey season it would be difficult to grant such a request: but at present I can leave for an hour's ride and a lengthy bee-chat, without feeling that my absence may cause a loss of several dollars." I stepped over to the house and told the "folks" that I should be gone two or three hours, over to Mr. Johnson's. When I came back to the gate, Mr. J. bad the horse untied and turned around. I climbed into the conveyance, and we were off. How I did enjoy that ride! The forests were dressed in their gorgeous October robes; maples, with wide-spreading tops, standing alone in some field, would exhibit several colors-bright green, red, yellow, and brown: and, again, the eye would take in at a glance some distant piece of woods with its masses of chromatic coloring. I was roused from my reveries by the sight of several rows of brightly painted bee-hives. The paint was put on in several different styles, and exhibited almost as many tints as the maples that I had just been admiring.

"And so this is your apiary, is it, friend Johnson? and pray tell me what was the cost of those fancy iron handles that adorn the sides of your hives?"

You ought to have seen the looks that he gave me. Evidently he thought it a strange question with which to "lead off." but he finally managed to say that they cost him five cents each.

"Two handles on each hive?" said I. "Yes."


"Six dollars for handles. There is where some of your profits went."

"Yes: but it would be very inconvenient lifting hives with no handles."

"Certainly; but slots cut with a wabbling saw in the sides of the hives would be just as good, and they could be made quicker than you could put on those handles."

"But I have no saw as you have, with which to do such work."

"Well, wooden handles, nailed on, would have been less expensive."

"But they would not have looked so well." "Now see here, friend Johnson; if you are keep ing bees for the fun of it, and have plenty of money to spare, you can indulge in fancy and expensive hives and fixtures, the same as some amateur poultry-men house their fancy chickens at an expense of $5.00 per head; but if you are in the business to make money, the cheaper your hives and implements, provided they are durable and well adapted to the purpose for which they are designed, the greater will be your profits. By the way, what is that running down, or, rather, that has been running down, upon that lumber pile?"

"That. which has drained out of that box up there? Why, that must be beeswax. I set some cappings up there a month or two ago, for the bees to clean up, and the sun must have melted the wax." That will make your beeswax crop a little short, this year."

"Oh! I have so little wax that I don't bother with


"How many colonies did you have last spring?" "Thirty."

"Well, I started with eighteen. I saved all the odds and ends of comb when transferring, also the

cappings, and how much wax do you suppose I

"Ten or twelve pounds, perhaps."

"I had twenty-five pounds. Now, if you had saved all of the cappings and pieces of comb, and melted them up into wax, you would probably have had as much wax as I did, and there would have been $6.00 more to put with your profits. Saving beeswax is something like saving paper rags: it is just about as easy to save, by throwing the odds and ends into a box, as it is to throw them away. How much honey did you have this year?"

"About seven hundred pounds."

"Comb, or extracted?"

"Mostly extracted."

"You have a nice nursery, friend Johnson, but there is no place in which to hang frames: your "Ten cents for each hive. How many hives have queen-cells all have to be cut out, don't they?" you?"


"Well, there is another question; how much did it cost?"

"I had it made to order at a tin shop, and they charged me $24 50."

"And you have only doubled the number of your stocks. You must have made some bad move."

"Yes; and I can tell now what that bad move was; it was the selling of my queens early in the season." "What do you mean?'

"Well, I thought I would try the Holy-Land bees, and so I bought a queen early in the spring, started a lot of queen-cells from the eggs, and then as the demand for queens was good, I sold nearly all my old queens, and furnished the queenless hives with queen-cells. The bees destroyed some of the cells, Some queens were lost, and those that became fertile did not lay until they were more than two weeks old. I think, taking it upon an average, that nearly every hive was queenless three weeks, in the fore part of June."

"That explains it. Even Blessed Bees,' that somewhat unfairly criticised book, could have told you better than that. You should have had your queens fertilized, and commence laying in nuclei, before disposing of your old queens. Why did you get the Holy-Land bees; did you think of rearing queens for sale?"

"Yes; I thought they were going to be all the rage,' and that I had better secure them at once." "Do you hatch your queens in a lamp nursery?" "Yes; I have a nursery, but have never used it very much. Come in the shop and see it."

The nursery was made of galvanized iron, and was fastened inside of a tall box that was also made of galvanized iron. There were four drawers made of perforated tin and glass. These drawers were divided into compartments, each compartment being furnished with a cunningly contrived door. These drawers and different apartments were to enable the queen-breeder to hatch queens in separate apartments, as mentioned in "Bee Chat No. 6."

"Twenty-four dollars and fifty cents! Well, there are at least $20.00 that might just as well have been placed upon the profit side of your bee-keeping account. My nursery is simply a tin hive, with double walls, and a tinner made it for two dollars. It is placed in the top of a tall wooden box, and is heated by a tin non-explosive lamp. One trouble with you, friend Johnson, is that you have been getting too many expensive (and in some cases useless) improvements. What you paid for your nursery would have nearly paid for a foot-power saw, and it would have been of more use to you than this lamp nursery has ever been. What are those hives piled up there back of the barn, as high as a man can reach?"

"Oh! those are the different kinds of hives that I have tried."

"There are more than a hundred hives, and at least four different styles. How much dead capital do you suppose is represented by that pile of hives? and, if I am not mistaken, there is another new style of bive there upon the work-bench."

"Yes; but that one will take the same size frame that I am now using."

"All right, then. I bave had three different styles of hives in my apiary at the same time, but they all had the same kind of frame. Did you notice that hive standing near the path, by the gate?" "The one made of lath, with a shingle cover?"

"Yes; that is a chaff hive, but the materials for its construction cost only seventeen cents. I shall make twenty more of the same kind, next winter. If there is any thing about an apiary that I detest, it is a pile of discarded hives, traps and calamities.' that are good for-kindling-wood. You said that you had kept bees several years, didn't you, friend Johnson?"

"Seven years; and twice before this time I have had more than fifty colonies; and I expected the next season to have a 'pile' of honey; but each time, nearly all died before spring. Then I would go to work and build them up as fast as I could for two or three years, only to have them die again. But, if I have any bees another spring, they have got to pay me something, for I have paid out the last dollar for bees and fixings until they bring in something." Reader, the above is not a fancy sketch.




AST year, Mr. Pierrard, of Dɔbasle, sent us the sexual organs of a drone, which were taken from a queen which had returned from her wedding flight. Soon after, he communicated to us a fact which proves that, when the copulative organ of a male is detached, another fertilization is required, as it is necessary for it to remain for a certain time in the vulva of the female, in order to make fertilization complete. He saw a queen returning with this organ, which the bees precipitately tore off, when she started out again the next day for a second fecundation. This queen could not enter the hive on her return, as the entrance had been closed with a grating; and it was just at this moment when she sought to enter, that the workers, over-excited by her movements, set themselves to take from her the male organs. He has had queens fly out the third time for fertilization.

This year, Mr. P. gives some new observations on this point. Here are some of the particulars, which he has sent us.

No. 1. Hive with three little frames. Small colony. No drones. The young queen showed herself at the bars at 1:5. I released her. She re-entered 7 minutes after, without any signs of fertilization; 5 minutes later she went out again to return in 15 minutes with indications of fertility; 3 minutes after, a bee came slowly up the bars, carrying a little white body. I took it away, and I am assured that it was really the male organ. I went to my work, and toward night I passed by the hive to take a look at it. The queen was quiet. She carried at the vulva a little bleached-out filament — the last trace, doubtless, of fertilization. The next day, and the day after, the young queen appeared no more at the bars. Finally, on the third day of fertilization some eggs were laid.

No. 2. Same kind of hive and colony. When five days old, the queen appeared at the bars at 2: 5. She flew out and returned in five minutes, without fertilization. At the end of 20 minutes she flew out again, and returned in 14 minutes after, bearing the male genital organ, which I took a few minutes after from a worker, which ejected it. That afternoon the queen was quiet, and did not appear at the bars. At evening no eggs were laid, nor next morning; but at 12:5 P.M. the queen appeared at the bars. She sallied out and returned in 11 minutes with indications of fecundation. In the evening I inspected the hive. The queen was quite calm, and she carried

at the vulva a grayish filament the last trace of fertilization, Her bees appeared rather hostile to her. Finally, 3 hours after the second union, the young queen laid.

No. 3. This was a rather strong colony, but on account of bad weather, the queen did not fly out till 12 days after hatching. She returned in 17 minutes, this first time with the male organ. A sharp cry resembling that from a young queen when resisting restraint, was made, and the bees seemed somewhat agitated. At dark, all was quiet. The next day the queen did not appear; but the day after that, she came to the entrance and flew out. She returned in ten minutes without any signs of fertilization. She flew out again four minutes later, and returned in five minutes (the weather was bad) without fertilization. The entrance-bars being out of order, the young queen experienced some difficulty in entering. Being impatient, I took her by the wings in order to replace her in the hive; but she was so much frightened that she flew away and did not return.

No. 3, again. Same hive. The next day I inserted in this "orphaned" hive a queen-cell ready to hatch, 6 hours after the young female was hatched. Six hours later she went out on her "love-flight," and returned in three minutes; 25 minutes after, she went out anew, and returned fertilized in 29 minutes; three minutes after, while examining the entrance in order to satisfy myself that the male organ was ejected, I heard a sharp cry, that of a young queen, and the bees seemed slightly agitated. Having raised the hive, I saw the queen surrounded by a knot of bees, which, without molesting her too furiously, nevertheless impeded the freedom of her movements. She did not appear the next day. The day after, June 25, about 2 o'clock, she took her flight and returned in a quarter of an hour without being fertilized a large cloud, accompanied with wind, appearing. For three days the weather was windy, by which time the queen had laid eggs without further copulating.

No. 4. This was a hive of two frames, and small colony. The queen went out on the 7th day, and returned fertilized after the second attempt. Her bees received her rather badly; and an hour after, they were very much excited. Inspecting the hive, I saw the bees hem in and maltreat the poor queen. On the evening of the next day she presented a sorrowful figure, and had the appearance of being quite fatigued. The vulva opened and contracted alternately. This queen did not go out again, but had laid eggs by the end of 48 hours thereafter.

No. 5. Same kind of bive and colony. The queen was fertilized the first time. The next day she was calm. The next day at noon she went out and returned at the end of 17 minutes, impregnated anew. The bees surrounded her with fury; and in spite of smoke to make them let go their hold, I found the queen dead the next day.

No. 6. This was a small hive - two full frames and one empty one. The 8th day after the queen was hatched, the bees were greatly excited, but the queen was not so. Then all at once the bees flew out and returned in a rage. Even the young bees, still white, came out and crouched down on the walls of the hive. The queen did not always appear at the entrance. Quiet was restored. The queen appeared no more for the two following days; and at the end of the third day, many eggs had been laid by the workers. Perhaps she may have found

issue without my knowing it, when she went out for fertilization.

No. 7. This was a small colony. The queen laid at the end of 40 hours, after one flight.

on close examination I found 3 young queens on the alighting-board dead. They were packed for winter, so I did not disturb them; pretty late queen-rearing, was it not? All my queens are reared under the swarming impulse; but whether they will be any

No. 8. Same details and same results.

No. 9. This was also a small colony. The queen better or not, if I am spared another year I am going laid in 30 hours. to try to find out.

Note. All the preceding queens were Cyprians.

While many of our friends will doubtless be rather puzzled to hear of queens going out to be fertilized the very day they leave the cell, there is much in the above that we have most of us verified by actual experience. I have for years been in the habit of closely scanning the terminal tip of young queens of a proper age to lay, and if I could see the least trace of this grayish shriveled thread remaining, I always expected her to be laying next day, and I was seldom disappointed. I know, too, that the bees often pursue the queen, and try to pull this whitish substance from her; but I do not know that we have before been told that at such times the queen is obliged to go out a second time. Of course, we have discussed the matter of a second fertilization pretty thoroughly, and the facts of this as given above are, I believe, well established. Will our friend across the water accept thanks for the additional light he has given us on this strange point?



FERE is my report for 1881: I went into winter quarters last fall with 40 colonies, and start

ed the season with 25, having lost 15, all

wintered on summer stands. I had 12 of Nellis' chaff bives, and tried to winter 2 colonies in each, thinking to economize; but I lost heavily in that hive; the rest were in your own chaff hives, but I lost in those also. I doubled back to 20 on friend Doolittle's plan, as given in GLEANINGS, and ran them for extracted honey, with the intention of feeding it back to get box honey, as box honey sells better here than extracted; and in about 3 weeks, during July, I got 1700 lbs. of the nicest honey I ever saw. This honey was thrown out before it was capped over, "contrary to the teachings of the A B C," and put into large, new, waxed barrels holding 64 gallons each, with a cover to each, and a honeygate in the bottom. I was told by several that I should never get them filled. I began to think so myself; but when it came, it came with a rush; the bees were ready, and so was I. Colonies that had their top story emptied, we will say to-day, were full again in 3 days. Oh how they would work out foundation, wired at that, so you could scarcely see the wires! Well, I increased to 40 again, and got them packed away for winter a little more carefully than I did last winter. Those I have in Nellis hives I have turned the frames half around, with only one colony in each, packed on all sides, some with chaff and some with cedar sawdust. I have left 31 on their summer stands, and put 9 in the cellar in Simplicity hives; they have been in now about 2 weeks. I try to keep the temperature at about 45°.

Some time about the middle of last month I noticed an unusual stir about one of my hybrid stocks, and


I picked out 10 of my best stocks, and took away all their combs, except 3 or 4, and these were solid sheets of capped brood and honey. I then put in

my broad frames of sections, using sometimes 10,

filled with Vandervort fdn., 10 sq. ft. to the pound. My feeder is Nellis' side feeder, holding about two quarts; this is screwed fast to a thin division-board, and pushed tight up against the broad frames; 3 holes in the division-board correspond with 3 others in the feeder, giving a good passageway for the bees; when all are in I shake the bees in front, and give the combs to other stocks to take care of. I now take about 40 lbs. of honey, heat it to 110°, add enough water to make it run thin, throw it into the extractor, run it into a coffee-pot, and fill up the feeders whenever they are empty; the sections were taken off as soon as completed, and I tell you they were beauties, especially so from some stocks; others would not fill them so completely. I kept on until I had used up 1200 lbs., and found I had only 800 sections. They brought me 17c. each; the extracted, 14c.; so by my way of working it did not pay to feed back; and I tell you it is an awful job to feed back when you can not open a hive without robbers pitching in. I guess I won't try it again. I had a party here go back on me on account of the fishbone in the box honey. He was going to take 20 cases; do you think they neglected thinning the fdn. when they found honey coming in so fast?

1 commenced bec-keeping in the spring of 1878,

and up to the present time they have cost me over $800; but this year will bring the receipts above that figure, besides my stock in hand. I do not devote my entire time to the business, otherwise I might do better, but you've got to creep before you

can wa'k.


In reading over the above, it brought up some vivid recollections of the past. Yes, friend Root, as far as I know, I have a father living; but the broad Atlantic separates us, and I can not very well visit him as often as you could yours. I have been in this country 10 years next February, and was here 5 years when I promised him I would return. I did


He did know that I was coming, so when I met him in the garden, he did not know his own son. No, sir, he did not know me; but when I made myself known, the expression on his face I shall never forget; joy intermingled with tears. I had a splendid time; but parting again, that was the hardest, with chances of never seeing him again on this sphere; but I hope to see him again beyond. Whenever I get a letter from him he always says, "Please write soon." Now, to own up, your loss has made me feel that he does not get a letter half often enough; but he shall get one oftener, through reading Our Homes. W. G. SALTFORD.

Poughkeepsie, N. Y., Dec. 6, 1881.

I think, friend S., it is as you say, that the rapid feeding had induced them to hustle the honey into the combs without waiting to thin out the fdn., just as they covered eggs

« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »