<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1> AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL.<br/> <br/> <span class="table bb bt"> <span class="large">EDITED AND PUBLISHED BY SAMUEL WAGNER, WASHINGTON, D. C.</span><br/> <span class="medium">AT TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM, PAYABLE IN ADVANCE.</span><br/> </span> <span class="table bb w100"> <span class="tcell tdl small smcap">Vol. VI.</span> <span class="tcell medium tdc w33">OCTOBER, 1870.</span> <span class="tcell small tdr w33">No. 4.</span> </span></h1>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[Translated for the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Origin_of_Honey_Dew">Origin of Honey Dew.</h2>
<p>In No. 11 of the Bienenzeitung for 1870, the
Baron of Berlepsch urges bee-keepers to make
diligent observations, to ascertain the origin of
honey dew. I have for many years given special
attention to the subject, as it is one of great interest,
not only to bee-keepers, but also to pomologists.
My observations fully corroborate
the remark of the Baron, that honey dew occurs,
in most cases, independently as a vegetable
excretion, and only occasionally as the product
of aphides. On last Sunday, June 19th, I had an
opportunity to assure myself definitely of the
correctness of this position. On that day, as
early as seven o’clock in the morning, I received
a visit from Mr. Heuser, of Westom, one of the
intelligent apiarians who compose the Ahrweiler
Association for Bee-culture. While we sat conversing
about bees, a lad came to inform us that
he had, the evening before, seen a fine swarm
clustered on a large pear tree. We naturally
hastened to the spot, but found that the swarm
had already decamped. A loud humming among
the branches, however, led us to suppose there
might be a hollow limb somewhere, into which
the bees had retreated, and friend Heuser was
induced to climb up in search of it. He found
none, but observed a multitude of bees busily engaged
licking up the honey dew with which the
leaves of the tree were covered—being evidently
an exudation, for on the most careful examination
we could not find a single aphis, though on
the morning of the next day thousands of aphides
were observable there.</p>
<p>It remains for me to mention the state of the
weather at the time, for according to my observations
this chiefly conditions the production of
honey dew. On Saturday, June 18th, the weather
was oppressively hot. Towards evening the
wind began to blow from the northwest; and
the night was cool, though without dew on the
grass. This necessarily checked the circulation
of sap, which I regard as the primary cause of
honey dew, for I may state explicitly that I
never saw any, except when hot days were followed
by a sudden and great reduction of temperature.
The same observation was made, many
years ago, by an aged bee-keeper in Niederheckenbach,
who, whenever he notices in summer a
sudden change of weather, at night, from great
heat to cold, will rise at three or four o’clock in
the morning and close the entrances of his hives;
as he is firmly persuaded that the honey dew
certain to come, will be injurious to his bees. I
must confess that honey dew has not always
proved beneficial to our bees. In some cases
they seemed to be sickened by it, and to remain
so for nearly a week, as indicated by their inability
to fly. This was more especially the case
at an apiary which I had in an oak forest, where
bark was largely stripped and dried for tanners’
use. I am unable to account for the occurrence,
and must leave chemists to determine whether
the consumption of <i>tannin</i> had aught to do with
it. Whenever honey dew occurs in my neighborhood
again I will strip leaves from various
trees affected by it, and send them for examination
to Dr. Keermrodt, of Bonn, the chemist of
the Agricultural Experimental Union of the
Rhine province.</p>
<p>The views of Prof. Hallier, that the honey
dew produced by aphides is of great practical
account in bee-culture, I am not prepared to endorse.
During the summer of 1869 I was a
student in the Pomological Institute at Reutlingen,
and very seldom saw a bee on any twig
covered with aphides, yet we were there sorely
annoyed by those parasites. Even now, I am
compelled to use soapsuds, &c., to rid my plants
of these unwelcome visitors, yet I have never
seen a bee among them.</p>
<p>Your readers will probably be interested in
learning the views of two of the most eminent
pomologists, regarding the origin of honey dew.</p>
<p>Court-gardener Jager, of Eisenach, writes as
follows to Regel’s Garden-Flora:—“According
to my observations, honey dew is much more
frequently exuded from the leaves of plants than
produced by aphides. I regard honey dew, in
many cases, as <i>a segregation of the saccharine
portion of the juices of plants, which these are then
no longer able to excrete out of their organism by
means of the blossoms</i>. I was led to adopt this
view by repeatedly observing that linden trees so
kept under by pruning that they never blossom,
excrete such a superabundance of honey dew
that such as is not gathered by insects, drips
from the leaves to the ground, and is often collected
on boards and bottled. Linden trees
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</span>
which are allowed to blossom, do indeed likewise
produce honey dew; but I have never seen it on
trees that bloomed profusely, and as I live in the
midst of lindens, I have the best opportunities
for observation.”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by Samuel Wagner, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at
Washington.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Next, my own respected teacher, Dr. Lucas,
of Reutlingen, remarks, in a note on the foregoing
passage—</p>
<p>“This observation of our esteemed friend
Jager certainly deserves attention. Whether he
is entirely right or not, is to me not altogether
clear. I have seen honey dew indiscriminately
on young trees and on old of various kinds; but
always only after we had several successive hot
and dry days, followed by dewless nights. It is
very probable that then the juices of plants
become more concentrated, and thus more highly
charged with saccharine, in so much that drops
of liquid sweet may exude through the pores of
the leaves, and that then the aphides will quickly
resort to the tables thus ready decked for them,
and multiply with almost incredible rapidity, is
a natural phenomenon observable in the case of
other insects also. But that the aphides are the
originators of the honey dew, as many foresters
and others maintain, can certainly not be accepted
as correct and true.”</p>
<p>Allow me, in conclusion, to request bee-keepers
and pomologists to watch for the appearance
of honey dew on the occurrence of such weather
and temperature as above indicated, and to communicate
the result of their observations.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">A. Arnold</span>,<br/>
<br/>
<i>Travelling Lecturer of the Agricultural Union,<br/>
Province of the Rhine</i>.<br/></p>
<p><i>Löhndorf</i>, June 22, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Profitable_Bee-keeping_Letter_from_England">Profitable Bee-keeping.—Letter from England.</h2>
<p>The following account shows the very great
advantage in keeping bees on the humane and
improved system, over the old and barbarous
practice of the brimstone match, so clearly,
that I send it for your readers to go and do likewise.</p>
<p>In the autumn of 1865, I was at the seaside on
the Lancashire coast, and found bees kept in that
neighborhood in the most primitive and bad way
I ever met with in any country. It was the system
there to put the swarm in a large brown
wicker basket, and at night to plaster a thin coating
of cowdung over the outside, and leave it in
this way all summer. I have frequently seen the
bees coming out of holes all over the hive, from
top to bottom, not being able to fill up all the
nicks with propolis, and giving it up as a bad
job; and if it was not a good district for honey,
they would give up the ghost altogether.</p>
<p>When the bees give over working, the owner
plasters the hive with mortar, for the winter.
The entrance is made three or four inches high
from the cold slate or flag on which they place
the basket. When they take the honey, they
suffocate the bees with brimstone. Wasps often
destroy the stock.</p>
<p>In my perambulations I called upon a person
who had kept bees for a number of years in the
old way; but they had all died off except one
stock. After talking with him for some time on
the humane and profitable management of his
bees, and showing him the great loss that he sustained
by murdering his poor bees, to say nothing
of the ingratitude or sin in killing them after they
had been laboring for him early and late all the
summer, and proved to him the very great advantage
the modern bar-frame (thanks to the Rev.
L. L. Langstroth, the inventor) from which the
honey could be taken without killing a bee, and
swarms made or prevented, as we liked. I showed
him that in fact, with these hives, he had the full
control over his bees, and could make them do
almost anything he liked.</p>
<p>He asked me to get the man that makes my
improved bar-frame hives, to send him some;
and I afterwards sent him information he wrote
for in several letters.</p>
<p>When I called on him last October, I found
twenty stocks of bees in his garden, all very
strong, with plenty of honey to last them over
the winter; and he had sold nearly <i>three hundred
weight of honey</i>, all of which he had taken
that year, <i>without killing a bee</i>. He has now got
his stock up to the number he intends to keep, so
this year he will work for honey; and if it is a
favorable season, his bees will collect for him an
immense store and make him a nice addition to
his income.</p>
<p>The same year that I called upon him, I called
upon his neighbor, a person much better off than
the other, and he then had three stocks of bees.
I advised him to adopt the more profitable and
humane system of management; but he did not;
and when I called on him again last October, I
found three weak stocks of bees in his garden,
and he said he had taken <i>no honey</i> that year and
got very little the year before. I turned his hives
over and found an accumulation of wet filth and
dirt, nearly an inch thick on the slate floors on
which his hives were placed, and the bottoms of
the combs all mouldy.</p>
<p>I told him if he had done as well as his neighbor,
he should now have sixty stocks of bees in
his garden and have taken more than a thousand
weight of honey that year. He is now, with
others in that district going to adopt the humane
system of management, and I hope bee-murder
has forever disappeared in that locality, as I
always find, when they see the loss to their own
pockets, it is the most convincing argument that
can be used.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">William Carr.</span><br/></p>
<p><i>Newton Heath, near Manchester, England.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>Bees sometimes abandon their hives very
early in the spring or late in the summer or fall.
They exhibit all the appearance of natural
swarming; but they leave not because the population
is crowded, but because it is either so
small, or the hive so destitute of supplies that
they are discouraged or driven to desperation.
I once knew a colony to leave a hive under such
circumstances, on a spring-like day in December!
They seem to have a presentiment that they
must perish if they stay, and instead of awaiting
the sure approach of famine, they sally out to
see if something cannot be done to better their
condition.—<i>Langstroth.</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">75</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[From the Western Farmer.]<br/></p>
<h2 id="About_Patents">About Patents.</h2>
<p>A student in the Michigan Agricultural College
has invented a gate latch, for which he has received
$10,000.</p>
<p>We find the above item in our exchanges.
Assuming it to be true, we commend the good
sense of the student. If the usual results follow,
the purchaser will either lose money by the operation,
or will speedily sell “rights” to parties
who will lose money. We have no wish to discourage
inventors, for they certainly are entitled
to full reward for any improvements or discoveries
they give the world. But we think it is
clearly true that the great mass of inventors—especially
those whose inventions relate to “little
things,” or articles in common use—place too
high an estimate on the value of their patent
right, often holding it, waiting for better offers
from manufacturers or purchasers of “territory,”
until some one patents a better device for the
same purpose, when the first becomes useless or
nearly so.</p>
<p>There are certain inventions of very great value,
because they supply a want universally felt. But
even in such cases it is rare that the original inventor
secures so high a degree of excellence
that some one else cannot improve on his device.
He may, however, succeed in patenting
something which subsequent inventors will have
to use, and for which privilege they must pay
him. To illustrate: the plow is of almost universal
use, yet there are objections to the best plow
that has been or will be constructed. Suppose
some one should invent an implement that would
obviate all these objections, and do the work of
preparing the soil for seeds better than any plow
can, and do this work quickly and cheaply.
Such an invention would be of almost incalculable
value, and the inventor might well expect to
become very wealthy. Yet it would be strange
if some one did not improve on this invention,
and thus divide the profits—perhaps take the
larger share. Hundreds of men have suggested
improvements of more or less value in reapers,
after the main principle had been given to the
public.</p>
<p>In case of such an invention as a gate latch, it
must be remembered that there are already very
good ones in existence, and probably a still better
one may soon be invented; and so we say
that, in all ordinary cases, it is better to sell the
patent if any such price as $10,000 is offered for
it. However useful such an invention may
really be, the inventor as well as the intending
purchaser of a “right” should carefully avoid
forming extravagant opinions as to “the money
there is in it.” The farmer or other business man
who gives up his regular business to engage in the
sale of patents, in the great majority of cases,
does a very foolish thing.</p>
<p>We write this, because we have noticed in
many cases the high anticipations of inventors or
of purchasers of “territory” for some patent, and
the disappointment and loss that followed. If
any of our readers have invented anything they
are convinced is of value, we say patent it by all
means; but do not think of leaving your farm or
other business to engage in its sale, or dream of
sudden wealth to come from it.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Hurrah_for_1870_and_the_Honey-slinger">Hurrah for 1870, and the Honey-slinger.</h2>
<p>The best honey season on record, and the most
useful invention! Long live our German friend,
who gave it to us without a patent!</p>
<p>The battle is past, and we can look back and
see if the generalship has been, like that of the
Prussians, well managed—or, like that of the
French, left to manage itself.</p>
<p>I had two stocks last spring, and the empty
combs from two hives that died about the first of
March. The first swarm was hived on the 18th
of June, and the honey-gathering on bass-wood
closed July 26th—so that none of the young bees
in new hives were then old enough to gather
honey.</p>
<p>I have taken one hundred and eighty-seven
(187) pounds with the machine, and on the 26th
of July had from five hives, 228 lbs., or forty-five
pounds each. They had gained forty pounds
each, in thirteen days, on bass-wood blossoms.
The best stock gained, 52 lbs. 8 oz. A queenless
stock gained 33 lbs. 10 oz. The best day’s
work, 7 lbs., Aug. 16. The best day’s work in
June was Saturday and Sunday, the 25th and
26th—a gain of 21 lbs. 6 oz. on red raspberry
blossoms, or 10 lbs. 11 oz. per day. I see that
<span class="smcap">Novice</span> reports 43 lbs. in three days, 25th, 26th,
and 27th of June. As he reports bass-wood at
its best July 6th, the flowers must be ten or
twelve days earlier than at this place. So his
best yield of honey, on the same days as mine, at
600 miles distance, was perhaps on account of
the weather, or some electrical state of the atmosphere.</p>
<p>In June I took from my stocks what honey
they had above twenty pounds each. While
bass-wood was in blossom, I tried to take what
they had above forty pounds each. The honey-emptier
appeared to take away all disposition to
raise a lot of drones in July. When I depended
on box honey, the hive was crowded with honey
before the bees would work in boxes.</p>
<p>As it took two pounds per month in winter to
support a colony of bees, at this rate the twelve
ounces of honey required to rear a thousand
drones would keep a thousand workers four and
a half months. I believe drones usually live
about two months. So when <span class="smcap">Novice</span> shaves off
the heads of drone brood sealed over, he has already
lost two-thirds of what it would cost to let
them live; and the presence of drones might perhaps
prevent the raising of more drone brood.</p>
<p>I would like to have <span class="smcap">Novice</span> answer one question
through the <span class="smcap">Bee Journal</span>, and that is—Do
light queens make better honey-gathering stocks
than dark queens from the same parents?</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Henry D. Miner.</span></p>
<p><i>Washington Harbor, Wis.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>A charlatan is an impostor who lives by the
folly of those who are imposed upon.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">76</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Comments_on_Querist_No_7">Comments on Querist No. 7.</h2>
<p>On page 83, Vol. V., of your most valuable
journal, Querist seems to be at variance with
our position in an article on page 55, of the same
volume, where we assumed, as we yet maintain,
that “the first and highest law of nature in
insects is self-preservation in caring for offspring,
&c. The honey bee seems to be endowed with
this instinct for the purpose of preserving the
brood in the hive.” Querist asks—“Now, is
this statement correct? If the preservation of offspring
is the strongest instinct that governs the
honey bee, then why does she remove unsealed
larvæ from the cells, to make room for a rich
honey harvest? Mr. Otis, of Wisconsin, claims
that the strongest instinct of the working bee is
the love of storing honey. So it seems the
position assumed by Mr. Seay, is at variance with
that of Mr. Otis, and one or the other must of
necessity be wrong.”</p>
<p>As to being at variance with some eminent
<i>bee</i>ologist, we have not a doubt that it is so, but
you know, Mr. Editor, great men will differ. I
deny emphatically that the workers will destroy
the unsealed larvæ for the purpose of storing
honey. I have never seen any evidence of it
among my bees, and should be pleased if some
correspondent (if he thinks such is the case)
would take the affirmative and give the evidence.</p>
<p>To satisfy himself, that the first and highest
law of nature in the honey bee is self preservation
and the perpetuation of the species, Querist need
only have a fair open contest with a hive of bees.
Why do they sting? For self-preservation and the
defence or preservation of their colony (species).
Injure a single bee in the hive, and the whole
colony is instantly exasperated. Cause the
honey to run out without injury to any of the
bees, and the effect is somewhat different. Tear
the comb containing sealed brood, and the bees
are at once enraged. And for what purpose?
For self-preservation as a colony, in caring for
the offspring. Why do they gather honey? For
self-preservation and perpetuation of the species.</p>
<p>Is there nothing in all this to demonstrate the
fact that the first and highest law of nature in
the honey bee is self-preservation and the perpetuation
of the species?</p>
<p>If this principle did not pervade the universe,
everything would be chaos and confusion. It
enters into and becomes the fundamental principle
upon which the human family, the animal
creation, and the vegetable kingdom have their
existence. What causes the mother to care for
her infant? It can be nothing less than this. If
Querist were hemmed in some corner by an
assassin who sought to take his life, and he had
power to save himself by killing his antagonist,
would he not do it? What causes the animal to
care for its young, as the cow for her calf, or the
sow for her pigs, or the birds for their unfledged
young? What causes the bee to sting when the
hive is improperly treated, or the smallest pismire
to bite when its tenement is disturbed?
You may pass from the human family down
through the entire animal creation to the smallest
animalculæ, and this (as it were) immutable
principle pervades the whole series. Every once
living thing that has become extinct as a species
upon this earth, failed from some unknown
cause, to comply with this grand fundamental
principle—<i>self-preservation and perpetuation of
species</i>.</p>
<p>Querist next says—“Again, is it not a fact
that the self-preservation of the matured bees, is
far stronger than the love of offspring? Witness,
for instance, the destruction of drones during a
dearth in the honey harvest?” I do not know
whether I understand him here. When I say,
honey harvest, I mean a time when there is
plenty of honey to be found by the bees in
flowers, honey dews, &c. Webster’s unabridged
gives the meaning of dearth as “scarcity, want,
need, famine.” These two terms then stand in
direct opposition to each other. A honey dearth
within a honey harvest is an utter impossibility.
It implies two distinct terms, not both existing at
one time, as a man within a man, or a horse
within a horse. Language seems here to have betrayed
Querist over to my side of the argument.
It is true that the workers do destroy the
unhatched drone brood in time of dearth. But
why do they do it? It is in strict obedience and
conformity to this alleged first law of nature.</p>
<p>Does Querist not know why his bees are so
slow about entering their honey boxes, for the
purpose of building combs? It is simply this
grand fundamental principle that prompts. It is
only because there are supernumerary bees in the
hive that a portion of the workers leave the brood
and enter the out of-the-way receptacle. The
temperature required to produce brood is 70° to
80° Fahrenheit; and the amount of brood produced
is governed by the number of mature bees
in the hive. If the greatest instinct in workers
be to gather honey, why do they not abandon
the brood <i>en masse</i>, go into the honey boxes, and
begin comb-breeding, when the grand flow of
honey is to be found in the flowers? Because
they would thereby doom the colony to inevitable
destruction. Why do not bees enter honey
boxes of their own accord, without waiting to be
coaxed (as is generally the case) by placing therein
small pieces of empty comb? Because their
numbers will not permit them to leave the brood.
And the same law of instinct, steps in and tells
them that the brooding department must be run,
whether combs are built and honey collected, or
not. Why do they not build combs as readily in
honey boxes above the combs containing brood,
as they will in an open space below? Because
they can thus produce the required temperature
of 70° to 80°, and the heat generated below will
ascend through the brood combs and bring about
the same temperature above also (among the
brood), thus accomplishing a double purpose, by
virtue of the natural tendency of heat to ascend.</p>
<p>Querist says—“Mr. Seay has much to say
about brood chilling.” This is true, and I have
still more to say about it. It is this—it is brood
just hatched, or not more than four days old, that
is so easily chilled. This brood is very hard to
see in the cells, and bee-keepers are not looking
for it to be chilled; but when it becomes so and
is lost, without having been seen in that state by
the inattentive observer, its destruction is not the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</span>
less attributable to that cause. Querist says
where he lives, “sealed brood is not very likely
to become chilled during June and July—the
swarming months, and but few bees are necessary
to keep it at the proper temperature to mature.”
We do not know where Querist lives, but we do
know that in Iowa in the months of July and
August, on replacing our frames after handling
them for some time, when the temperature was
rather low for those months, we have frequently
designated the place in the combs where young
brood existed, by piercing the combs in a circle
around it, with short stems of timothy grass, and
left them there for a day or two that I might be
sure to find the exact place and cells again; and,
in many cases, on re-examination, I found no
brood in those cells. I have repeatedly made
swarms in the Langstroth hive, and afterwards
found that the brood, in what I call the first stage,
was gone.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">J. W. Seay.</span></p>
<p><i>Monroe, Iowa.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Report_of_Apiary_in_1870">Report of Apiary in 1870.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">The Field.</span> The farmers cultivate their fields
for produce for the city. They are so frequently
broken up that white clover has a poor opportunity
for an abundant crop. But little buckwheat
is sown. This season none of any consequence
within three miles. Fruit blossoms in the spring
were unusually abundant.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Season.</span> The early part of the season
was favorable for gathering honey. The breeding
apartment of the hives was well stored with
brood and honey at the commencement of the
white clover harvest. This harvest was, however,
shortened by the drouth, and no honey was stored
in boxes after the middle of July; and in some
cases honey was removed from boxes partly
filled.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Number of Colonies.</span> I set upon the stand
in the spring twenty-three colonies. Of these,
three were in old box hives which were broken
up when they cast the first swarm, and the hives
converted to kindling wood. One of the remaining
twenty, from loss of queen or other cause,
failed entirely; and a new swarm was introduced
to occupy its place. This left nineteen of the
old colonies, for giving swarms and surplus
honey.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Surplus honey in boxes.</span> I find on adding
up the product from my hives, they have given
me one thousand and eighty (1,080) pounds of
surplus. Perhaps in an ordinary field and poor
season I should be content with this; but I think,
with the experience of this season and some improvements
in my hives, I could do better tried
over again.</p>
<p>Of this 1,080 (or to be exact, 1,080½) pounds,
five colonies give 625½ pounds, an average of 125
lbs., and 74¾ lbs. more than half of the whole
surplus. One of the five best gave one hundred
and ninety-eight and a half (198½) pounds.</p>
<p>I attribute this success of my best colonies to
the following causes:</p>
<p>1. A full force of workers at the commencement
of the season. To secure this, I fed them
two or three pounds of syrup, when first placed
upon the stand early in March.</p>
<p>2. This gave them from one to three weeks
start of the others, in commencing work in the
surplus boxes.</p>
<p>3. I think, further, one cause of such force of
workers was a most prolific queen. Twelve boxes
of six pounds capacity are now almost full of
bees, though without honey or comb, except one
or two.</p>
<p>4. But this great number of workers, and early
filling the hives with bees, would not have given
the surplus had they not been satisfied not to
swarm. With the purpose to swarm and preparation
for it, they would have given an early
swarm, followed by one, two, or three after-swarms
probably; and the 198 lbs. of surplus
have been placed in other hives in the shape of
arrangements and stores for wintering one, two,
or three new colonies of bees.</p>
<p>In my experiments with bees, I have generally
found a loss of two weeks time in preparation
for swarming, in which little or no surplus honey
is stored—the great body of the workers clustering
out in idleness. Or if boxes were furnished
them and filled with bees, I have been disappointed
on the swarm leaving the box empty of
bees, to find it entirely destitute of honey.</p>
<p>Although my advanced age and infirmities
moderate my ambition in the new business of bee-keeping,
and so limit my experiments that I have
never tried to increase my stock by artificial
swarming, I have no doubt but the greatest success
in the business can only be secured by the
use of non-swarming hives and artificial swarming.
Overstocking the honey-field is, in my
settled conviction, the great obstacle in the way
of satisfactory success. This makes it necessary
to have the entire control of the increase of colonies,
to limit their number to the capacity of the
field. I hope to do better another season, from
knowledge gained by the experiments of the past.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Jasper Hazen.</span></p>
<p><i>Albany, N.Y.</i>, Aug. 12, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Four-Banded_Bees">Four-Banded Bees.</h2>
<p>Mr. Alley says, in the last number of the Journal,
that Mr. Briggs “may bet a high figure that
no worker bee in this country ever showed four
bands.” I beg respectfully to differ from him,
having a queen now in my possession which produces
bees that plainly show <i>four</i> bands, when
filled with honey.</p>
<p>I noticed this before seeing anything about four
banded Italians, in any publication. It is true,
that the Baroness Von Berlepsch wrote me early
in the spring that Dzierzon was selling such
queens, but that was the only time that I had
heard of them. The queen mentioned above was
raised by me last season, and is not purely fertilized,
as many of her bees show only <i>one</i> band.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Daniel M. Worthington.</span><br/></p>
<p><i>St. Dennis, Md.</i>, Sept. 5, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>A bee-hive is a school of loyalty and filial love.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Novice">Novice.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Dear Bee Journal</span>:—Just hear the good
news,—our bees are again at work! Not, indeed,
at the rate of ten or fifteen pounds per day,
as in June last; but they are really at work at
this date, September 9th.</p>
<p>We had been building some more “air castles,”
and had talked of another yield of honey
in August and September. After waiting some
time, and watching and weighing a hive without
any increase, we at last began to perceive a gain
in weight, first of half a pound, then a whole
one, and yesterday a stock of <i>Italians</i> gained two
pounds and a half, which was enough to make
us toss up our hat and almost embrace the little
yellow pets (with judicious gentleness, of course).</p>
<p>A neighbor says the way we follow the bees
across fields and through woods, and delve into
the subject and remove obstructions, it is no
wonder they get honey if it be on the face of
the earth—and perhaps that is so.</p>
<p>But, look here, my dear reader, did you understand
us to say that our bees were building <i>combs</i>?
Not at all; “nary” comb will they build, with
a few exceptions, and certainly none in those
old-fashioned traps called boxes. It is this way.
Where there are empty combs right above the
brood, they will fill them with honey; as, for
instance, in the upper story of the Langstroth
hive. But they seldom put any honey in
combs very far to one side; and hives that are
full, or nearly so, do not increase in weight at
all. So you see it all depends on having plenty
of <i>empty</i> combs. We really think a few more
just now would be worth a dollar apiece to us.
A little feeding given just right will induce comb
building, but <i>we</i> think not so as to pay.</p>
<p>The one stock that we weighed all through the
season has now given us three hundred and
thirty (330) pounds; and had it not been for
replacing their queen, they would have done
much better. Their new queen is nearly a black
one, and so, also, are her workers; and, by the
way, Mr. Editor, here lies a trouble. In slicing
the heads off of all our drone brood this summer,
we increased our yield of honey, which was all
right. But we increased the yield also of new
queens that produce black workers, or at least so
nearly black that we have resolved to purchase
twenty-five pure queens, to replace all that are
not fully up to our ideas. It is true we might
raise them, but at the prices at which they are
now offered, we begin to think we had rather
raise honey, and let some one who has more
time or likes the bother better, raise queens. In
making new swarms we have no trouble; but in
raising surplus queens to replace others, etc., we
have not made it go to suit us. We have made
some experiments in artificial fertilization this
fall, but have not succeeded. Queen nurseries
and hatching queens in cages have also been an
“unsuccessful bother” to us. We know we are
but a poor novice, and should not expect to succeed
always, but it does seem as if queens that
do not lay, are rather a risky property to meddle
with.</p>
<p>But there is one thing we do like, and find it
a real pleasure, namely, to keep a <i>record</i>. Thus,
we found sixty-five stocks too many to remember
all about, so we got a blank book with 150 pages
(bear in mind it is a good idea to have a few
extra pages, even if you are sure you <i>never will</i>
want to use them). No. 1 hive is on page 1, No.
2 on page 2, and so on to the end of the chapter.
Each page tells when the queen of the hive it
refers to was hatched, whether pure or not, prolific
or not; if weighed, how much honey produced;
if queen to be replaced, how and when;
and, in short, all about the hive.</p>
<p>Our hives, bees, and combs weigh about thirty
pounds each, and before putting them into the
house in November, we are going to make every
one weigh over fifty pounds, and not more than
fifty-five. Some might call twenty five pounds
sealed honey (or nearly all sealed) not as well as
more; but, as we winter them, we think more
would be detrimental, and with us all the rest
goes into the melextractor. Were it not for that
same melextractor, we fear, or rather <i>feel sure</i>,
we should not get any surplus honey at all now.</p>
<p>In our last article it read that we had sold all
our honey at thirty cents a pound, which was a
mistake that crept in somewhere. The honey
was sold for thirty cents per pound retail; but
the commission, freight, leakage, cost of boxes,
labor, etc., made quite a hole in the thirty cents.
In regard to saleableness, we have just shipped
the last of our three tons, and think that we
could sell almost any quantity.</p>
<p>As respects the source of the honey we get
now, it is mainly from the same white-flowering
plants sent you last fall, which are even thicker
here this season than they were then. And, Mr.
Editor, we really think that the more bees there
are kept, the more honey plants will grow; for
every blossom is most surely fertilized, and the
result must be more and better seed.</p>
<p>For the first four years that we kept bees, we
never found the hives to gain in weight after the
first of August; and then we had only from four
or five to twenty stocks. Sixty-five colonies is
certainly nothing like overstocking, and we have
no fear that one hundred would be in any danger
if <i>well taken care of</i>.</p>
<p>We have found our bees also working so
briskly, on what we call fireweed and common
golden rod, that we have labelled the honey from
<span class="large table">AUTUMN WILD FLOWERS.</span>
It is dark and thick, but has a very pleasant
flavor, something like humble-bee honey, as we
mentioned last fall, and very different from either
clover or basswood honey.</p>
<p>We have had no buckwheat nearer than two
and a half miles, and we followed the bees one
morning all the way there, as our wild flowers
were not then in blossom. We think we can
afford, next year, to give farmers within one
and a half miles of us, a dollar per acre to raise
buckwheat. It is true it might prove a failure,
but we are used to failures occasionally.</p>
<p>Many thanks to Mr. Tillinghast, on page 63,
and also to yourself, Mr. Editor. When we commenced
here with bees, our locality certainly
was called poor. Bees had ceased to pay, and
were dying out; and had we not been so much
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">79</span>
discouraged by what bee-keepers told us, we
should probably have commenced sooner. One
man purchased a hundred stocks, but utterly
played out the first year. Black bees are now
increasing around us at quite a brisk rate; but
that is about all they do.</p>
<p>Mr. Tillinghast says that amount of honey
(5,000), in the time, in his locality, “is simply
impossible.” We think he would have done better
to have said, <i>in his opinion</i>. We poor mortals
very often have a very imperfect idea of what
is possible. After the account was given in
our county paper, that our bees were bringing
in two hundred pounds of honey per day, and
that one stock alone gathered forty-three pounds
in three days, it was pronounced utterly impossible;
and that if those who told it would consider,
they would see that <i>it could not be</i>! And we were
obliged to invite them publicly to come down
and sit by one of our hives all day, weighing it
at intervals, if nothing else would convince them,
before they were still.</p>
<p>Counting the number of flower heads that a
bee visits is a new idea to us; but we cannot
think our bees visit more than a dozen certainly.
One day in June, when we examined the red
clover, we should think a bee would get a fair
load from a single blossom; and many of them
were working in the red clover at the time. The
number stated seems as though the printer had
made a mistake with the figures. Nearly ten
blossoms in a minute for a whole hour, and not
more than a load then! We agree that must be
poor pasturage.</p>
<p>Nearly every year since we have kept bees has
been called, by more or less unsuccessful ones,
the “poorest” season ever known; yet, so far as
honey is concerned, all <i>we</i> ask is—more <i>just like
them</i>.</p>
<p>The only plant we have ever cultivated for
bees is the Alsike clover, of which we have about
half an acre, sown last spring on the snow, and
which has bloomed quite profusely for the last
six weeks, but is now nearly gone. We think
our bees kept at least one sentinel to the <i>square
foot</i> of it, to watch for the honey as it collected.</p>
<p>We had a visitor the other day (in fact, we
have visitors by the score, and we are ashamed
to say, to our sorrow sometimes). Well, this
one for a while did not think proper to inform us
whether he kept bees on the “brimstone plan”
and came to convince us it was the best way, or
whether he was the Editor of the <span class="smcap">Bee Journal</span>
himself (of the latter we were very sure, as we
think we should know <i>him</i> anywhere); but eventually
he taught us some things, and we hope he
learned some things from us. His visit did not
last quite twenty-four hours, but he really made
us feel quite lonely, for more than that length of
time after he was gone. One simple thing, that
Gallup has often said before, but we did not believe
it, our visitor convinced us of—namely, that
rotten wood is ahead of all tobacco, rags, or anything
else, for subduing bees, especially hybrids,
who will sometimes “fight till death” when tobacco
is used, but would turn around and go
down between the frames “without ever a word”
under the influence of rotten wood smoke. But
don’t do as we did next day after he left us,
and drop fire into the saw-dust. We burnt up a
heavy two-story Langstroth of Italians before we
discovered the muss, and the stream of melted
wax and smoking honey that ran out in lava-like
channels was a warning to all Novices.</p>
<p>And then we had some robbing at <small>OUR</small> house.
We got about half a dozen frames of empty comb
hastily put in a new hive, and removed the burnt
one, and got the bees to bringing in the honey
that had run out (they wouldn’t eat melted wax);
but before they had got it all done, there arose
an “<i>on</i>pleasantness” as to <i>ownership</i> that finally
mixed itself into a grand jubilee, in spite of
Novice. The burnt hive is patched up, and the
combs and bees are back into it, minus their
queen, about forty pounds of honey, and ten
frames of comb of such evenness and beauty, that
some one (who wanted to pick a fuss) said we
thought more of them than of our wife and family.</p>
<p>Our visitor aforementioned says he has never
written but one article on bees, and we think
that so richly deserves a place in the Journal,
that we mail it to you.</p>
<p>And now, Mr. Editor, we would say before
closing, that in our humble opinion, the results
we have achieved this year, are no nearer what
<i>may be</i> done in scientific bee-culture, than the old
brimstone way is to our present method, and
humbly beg to be still considered a</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Novice</span>.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Bee-Culture_in_Cities">Bee-Culture in Cities.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—According to promise I will
try to answer the queries so often put in the
<span class="smcap">Journal</span>:—“Are bees profitable?” and “Can
bees be kept in cities?”</p>
<p>I have kept bees for the last three years on the
roof of a two-story house in the city of Cincinnati,
having kept bees before, when living on a
farm. We did then about as well with them, as
our neighbors did who also kept bees; but we
were without the aid of the <span class="smcap">Bee Journal</span>, and
kept our bees in common box hives—hence our
doings could hardly be called bee-keeping.</p>
<p>Three years ago we took to the city the last
hive which the moths had left us, built a platform
on the roof of the house, and placed the
hive thereon. It threw off a swarm in June
following, and gave us some honey. In the fall
I introduced an Italian queen in each colony.
Two years ago I subscribed for the <span class="smcap">American
Bee Journal</span>, and transferred my bees into
Langstroth hives. A year ago last spring I entered
on the campaign with five colonies of bees—the
two Italians in Langstroth hives, and three
in Townley hives, having bought the latter.
They produced during the season nearly five
hundred pounds of honey, all in small frames
weighing from one pound to one and a half
pounds each; and the fall found me in possession
of fifteen strong stands of bees, most of
them Italians. On the fourth of June, 1869, I
hived two second swarms, clustered together,
from two of the Townley hives. After giving
them an Italian queen and a full set of empty
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">80</span>
combs, they produced for me 138 lbs. of honey,
the same season.</p>
<p>Last spring I had a first-rate honey slinger
made by a brother bee-keeper in this city, and
commenced the season with twenty colonies—fourteen
of which were Italians or hybrid. As
the bees commenced storing honey very early,
my expectations were quite flattering, though I
did not obtain as much honey as I anticipated.
Several mistakes which I happened to make,
account for this, in part; but my honey-harvest
is respectable still. Here is a statement of it:</p>
<table>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">384</td>
<td>lbs. of</td>
<td>honey in frames.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">1,350</td>
<td class="tdc">”</td>
<td>machine strained honey.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">23</td>
<td class="tdc">”</td>
<td>beeswax.</td>
</tr></table>
<p>As beeswax sells at the same price here that
honey does, we may count it with the rest, and
thus we have 1,757 lbs. as the product of twenty
hives of bees in the city of Cincinnati. This
certainly speaks well for our Italian bees, and for
bee-keeping in a large city. My black bees have
done well, but I think my Italians have given
me nearly twice as much honey. Every one of
my twenty colonies is now strong.</p>
<p>I was induced last month to make four more
swarms, by taking from each hive about two
frames with brood, honey, and adhering bees,
and giving an Italian queen to each swarm. I
have thus twenty-four Italian stands of bees, in
a No. 1 condition.</p>
<p>Last year I wintered my bees on their summer
stands, by leaving the honey board in its proper
place and covering it with about half a dozen
coffee bags or pieces of old carpet. I placed a
smooth bag next to the board, to cover well the
openings. This plan did very well. I did not
lose a single colony, and intend to winter them
the same way this year. In the earlier part of
the winter I lost a great many bees, for the
reason that I had neglected to cut winter passages
through the combs. This having been
done afterward, on the first mild day we had,
my bees then got along first-rate. Before this was
done, I sometimes found hundreds of bees dead
in the cells on the outside of combs which separated
them from the cluster—showing clearly the
necessity of winter passages. Most of those
parts of combs had already a putrid smell, and I
thought it best to cut them out.</p>
<p>I have seen it stated several times that bees get
irritated by tobacco smoke, and are more apt to
sting for several days afterwards. This may be
true of the black bees. They will bother me
sometimes, in spite of my cigar. But I think
those assertions are only made by non-smokers.
All I want is a cigar, and I will open every one
of my hives, take out every frame, and replace it
every day for a week successively, without finding
my bees any more angry at the end than
they were at the beginning.</p>
<p>I learned how to open a hive from Mr. Gallup,
through one of the numbers of our <span class="smcap">Bee Journal</span>.
I hardly blow any smoke at the bees, but
over them; and I keep my cigar in the mouth,
while Mr. Gallup keeps his pan with sawdust by
his side, until the proper time arrives for the
application of a little smoke. I think there are
no more peaceable hives than mine in the
country.</p>
<p>Now, Mr. Editor, I do not want to exhaust
your patience, and wish you to make use of this,
or of such portions only, as you may think
proper.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Charles F. Muth.</span></p>
<p><i>Cincinnati, Ohio</i>, August 16, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="The_Looking_Glass_Again">The Looking Glass Again.</h2>
<p>On page 67 of the last number of the <span class="smcap">Bee
Journal</span>, Ignoramus criticises my article on page
34 in regard to the looking glass, and says the
glass has been tried three times this year to his
knowledge, and three swarms of bees secured.
But he gives us the particulars in only one case,
and then guesses at my reply, which is perhaps
correct; or the swarm may have had two or
more young queens, and a small portion with
one queen settled on one tree, while two or more
queens with the larger portion of the swarm settled
on another. After a few minutes, all these latter
queens may have been simultaneously killed, and
then the bees went to the other tree and joined
the small portion with the one queen. As to the
bees coming down to the ground, that is often the
case. When a swarm issues, the bees are so full
of honey that it is difficult for them to fly, and
they often light to rest. I have often had swarms
to settle in three or four places, though they had
but one queen, remain for ten or fifteen minutes,
and then all join the cluster with the queen. Just
so with the old woman’s bees. They may have
just been in the act of going to join the cluster
with the queen, when she saw them.</p>
<p>Ignoramus also tells us how to secure swarms
with a <i>knot</i>. Well, sir, I have never tried the
<i>knot</i>, but I have tried the <i>mullein</i> tops tied in a
bunch and attached to a pole, &c., and also a
piece of old black comb attached to the under
side of an inverted bottom board swung to a pole,
with cord and pulley, to raise and lower, as the
bees would rise or fall. But after trying both for
a whole season, when I had more than a hundred
swarms to issue without a bee lighting on either,
I gave it up as a failure. I think it likely his knot
theory will answer very well in a prairie country,
or any place where there is nothing for the bees
to light on. But where they are surrounded with
as many shady fruit trees as mine are, they will
mostly select a leafy branch to settle on. When
I allowed my bees to swarm naturally, I had two-thirds
of the swarms, or more, to settle on the
under side of my grape arbor; which proves that
they prefer a cool shady place to a bare pole with
a knot on it.</p>
<p>Ignoramus says I remind him of an old Dutch
lady, &c. Well, sir, I am like the Dutch in <i>one</i>
respect; that is, I am in favor of progress; but
I am not like the old Dutch lady you refer to,
for I was persuaded by your suggestion to look
again into the glass and well. Yesterday was a
clear, bright sunshiny day. I took a glass some
fifteen inches square, and just as Ignoramus said,
I saw different from what I did on the other occasion.
I saw the water in the well and my own
<i>pretty</i> face in the glass—nothing more. I am now
ready to try any other experiment that Ignoramus
may suggest; but my opinion is, the better plan
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</span>
will be to throw aside the glass and make artificial
swarms. Then there is no danger of any
going off, besides being the fastest way of increasing
bees, when the operator understands the principle
well. But had I been wholly like the Dutch
lady, I should never have succeeded in making
artificial swarms. In my first efforts, I ruined
dozens of swarms before I succeeded.</p>
<p>I am aware there is much yet to learn about
bees, and my motto is to try and try again. So
come along, Mr. Ignoramus, with your suggestions.
If you do not teach me anything, you
perhaps instruct somebody else, as there are many
new beginners that read the Journal; and the
Journal is the place to receive and impart bee
knowledge.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">H. Nesbit.</span></p>
<p><i>Cynthiana, Ky.</i>, Sept. 6, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Great_Number_of_Queen_Cells_and_Queens">Great Number of Queen Cells and Queens Secured from One Hive.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—In volume 2, number 9, of the
American Bee Journal, Mr. A. Grimm gives a
case, under the above caption, of forty-three
queen cells on one frame of comb. I have had
two similar cases this season. The first one had
twenty-eight cells on one frame; the other had
forty-seven cells on one, and five on an adjoining
frame—making fifty-two cells at one time, in one
hive.</p>
<p>Early in the spring I experienced the greatest
difficulty in getting my bees to start queen cells
in full stocks. Having an extra choice queen,
which I intended to raise from exclusively for
the present; and not being willing to risk the
loss of her in moving her from one stock to another,
I adopted a different course. (By the
way, I always start queen cells in full stocks—never
in small nuclei.) I removed the hybrid
queens from three strong stocks in succession,
and in five days after their removal, I cut all the
cells then started, and gave each stand a frame
of brood and eggs from the choice stock. On
opening those stands a few days after, to see
what number of queen cells they had started, I
was doomed to disappointment. The first one
had only three cells, and two of these were built
too close together to be separated. The other
two stands did very little better. Getting tired
of this slow process, I removed the queen from
another strong hybrid stock; then exchanged
the whole of the brood combs with the choice
stock, brushing off the bees into their own hive.
In this way I got some sixteen cells.</p>
<p>On the 6th of June two very large swarms got
together. I divided and equalised them, and
thinking each had a queen, I left them and went
to other work. One of the queen’s wings being
cropped, I had put her on the cluster before the
other swarm issued—the two stands sat about a
rod apart. About an hour after this one of the
stands became restless, the bees flying out and
in, but neither going back to the old stand, nor
to the one I had just separated them from; nor
settling, either, except on the tops of the weeds
and grass, two rods below the two stands, and
under the limb they had swarmed on. It then
occurred to me that the cropped queen might
have dropped in the grass, and I started to look
for her. But what a sight presented itself to my
eyes—a great, big, long snake! No, not a snake,
but a bee procession, a rod long and from three
to five inches wide, travelling on foot, through
the grass and weeds, to the nearest stand, headed
by her majesty—who just entered the hive before
I could seize and secure her. This was the stand
from which I had just separated them an hour
before. I then had my work to do over again,
which I did in a few minutes, but got both queens
in one hive, though I did not then know it. I
had watched closely, and saw only one queen
enter. By this time other swarms claimed my
attention, so that I hastily took a frame of brood
from another stand, and gave it to the one I was
not certain had a queen—intending to give them
one as soon as I ascertained it needed one. They
went to work, as though all was right; and I
paid no more attention to them till the second
day after, when I opened the hive to examine.
I found they were building straight and nice
worker comb. I did not then raise the frame of
brood, as the nice worker comb satisfied me that
they had a queen; that is, according to the authority
of book authors and others, that bees
will never build worker comb without the presence
of a queen. But here is an exception; and
I have in my practice come across many exceptions
to general rules, where bees are concerned.
On the 19th this stand swarmed, and taking advantage
of my dislike to work on Sundays, went
to parts unknown, though I saw them go. I
was then engaged in hiving four others, and they
refused to await their turn to be waited on.
Next morning early, I raised the brood comb already
mentioned, and secured seventeen fine
queens, counting twenty-eight perfect cells in
all! The hive was about filled with comb, but
only about one-third was drone comb—the rest
being worker comb. Nothing ever puzzled me
more than this case. I cannot account for it
without going counter to the established rules,
that bees without a queen will build drone comb
exclusively. But, as I said above, this swarm
was extra large, and having a frame of brood
given them at the start, may have taken a notion
to divide again, and so built worker comb while
raising the queen cells. Or, will some one say
the old queen was present. Well, if she was,
why did the bees build about one-third drone
comb? Will some one give us a similar case—such
as a newly hived large swarm starting
queen cells at once, while they have a queen. I
am almost positively certain that they had no
queen; yet there is much about the case that
bothers or puzzles me. <i>A good job</i> for Gallup!</p>
<p>On the 27th of July, I removed a queen from a
strong nucleus, to send her off. The nucleus
hive was 12 × 12 × 18 inches, with three frames and
partition board. It had been started with two
frames, but an empty frame was afterward inserted
in the middle, to give the bees more room
to work. This frame they had filled out to
within two inches of the bottom. I had disturbed
the nucleus a few days before, to stimulate
the queen to lay before removing her. In
six days after her removal, on opening the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">82</span>
nucleus, I found and counted forty-seven perfect
cells, but saw none on either of the other frames;
yet, while removing the cells on the 10th day, I
found five more on one of the adjoining frames—making
fifty-two (52) in all!</p>
<p>In conclusion, let me add that this has been
a poor season here. I will get only about
500 pounds of honey, to Novice’s 5,000. Hope he
has filled his cistern by this time. But here I
must close, as I have already wearied the patience
of your readers.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">R. M. Argo.</span></p>
<p><i>Lowell, Ky.</i>, Aug. 12, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Bees_in_Iowa">Bees in Iowa.</h2>
<p>When the spring opened, it found me well
prepared with <i>very</i> large colonies; but while
they seemed to be doing all they could and
working hard all the time, they used up all their
stores, and I had to give the larger ones honey
in the comb stored last year. Then while the
fruit trees bloomed profusely, and when white
clover had been in blossom a month, my bees
had not capped—even in the largest colonies—a
pound of honey, much less built any comb.
Otherwise they did well.</p>
<p>In the winter I had thirty-five stocks. In
January I smothered one, and in April three
proved queenless, and two others were robbed;
thus leaving me with twenty-nine. Since then
I killed a drone layer, and in another hive the
queen died and the bees had mostly <i>gone up</i> before
I discovered their loss. I gave them queen
cells, and as they hatched out a week ago, tomorrow
I shall examine all my new swarms and
see if any failed to secure a fertile queen or lost
theirs. Thus you see I was reduced virtually to
only twenty-seven stocks. Now, I have thirty-eight,
and, with the exception of one, all are
very populous.</p>
<p>As we have not had any rain here this spring,
except one or two slight sprinklings, we are
now threatened with drouth. Heavy dews and
a clouded sky have saved us so far, but have
kept the bees from flying a great deal. I shall
not increase my stock any more till it rains, or
honey becomes plenty again. From the hive
that I have raising queen cells, I secured fifty in
three weeks.</p>
<p>On the 11th of this month (June) I received
an Italian queen from Mr. Charles Dadant. I
was disappointed when I first saw her, as I had
formed the opinion that the Italians were a
larger bee than the blacks; yet there is not a
worker in my hives that is not larger than those
that came with the queen, and I am positive
that I have black queens that are almost three
times as heavy or large as the Italian queen I
received. But the Italian is quicker than lightning
and the workers are on guard the first in
the morning and the last at night. I introduced
her to the colony raising queen cells last Monday
morning, giving the black queen to a queenless
colony. I examined the hive containing
the Italian this morning, and find that the
swarming impulse is still on them, though the
introduced queen is of this year’s raising, as
Mr. Dadant says, “she was born this year,
1870.” On examination, I found twenty-five
queen cells in the hive, ready for the egg, if the
eggs are not already in them. It was too early
and still too dark, being “before sun rise,” for
me to make out if any eggs were laid in the
cells. When I removed the black queen, I
destroyed even the old queen cell foundations,
so you see my mode is not theory but fact. As
fast as the queen cells are capped, I shall remove
a black queen from a colony and give it
two queen cells, to make sure of one, till all
have been changed to Italians. Next year,
when I shall have none but Italian drones, I
will easily secure pure Italian stock.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">J. M. Price.</span></p>
<p><i>Buffalo Grove, Iowa</i>, June 20.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="The_Honey_Season_in_Jasper_County_Iowa">The Honey Season in Jasper County, Iowa.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—This has been a somewhat poor
honey season in this locality, owing to the dry
weather. The month of March was pleasant and
warm for the season. At the close of the month
there was brood in the combs in most colonies.
April was less favorable. The month was cold,
and at its close there was less brood in many
colonies, than there was at its commencement.
May was warmer again, and the bees commenced
gathering pollen early in the month. Breeding
was extensively resumed, and towards the last
of the month, the bees stored some honey. Most
of the hives were strong and apparently in good
condition to be divided; yet a division at this
time, or in fact at any time during the season,
would have proved injurious to many, if not entirely
ruinous to some of the divided colonies.
Honey gathering ceased with the failure of the
fruit blossoms. No more honey was gathered
until the last of June. Through the middle of
that month most stocks were nearly destitute of
honey, and the drones in most colonies were
killed off. The slaughter was pretty general.
About the last of June the bees commenced
gathering honey again, and for nearly three
weeks it was stored quite freely. Towards the
end of July the honey harvest ceased, and from
that time till within the last few days bees gathered
no honey.</p>
<p>As a whole, the season has been a poor one.
Very few stocks swarmed—especially of natives.
The Italians have done better, those at least that
were rightly managed. In the spring I placed
twenty-eight (28) colonies on their stands, all of
which had been wintered in a dark cellar. These
I have doubled by artificial swarming, except
three natural ones.</p>
<p>I drew and started up twenty-five (25) nuclei,
for queen raising purposes, and <i>kept them up</i>.
This I have done, while my neighbors did not
get either swarms or honey; yet I do not think I
have any colonies but what will be in good condition
for wintering, at the close of the season.</p>
<p>Enclosed please find four dollars, for which
send two copies of your valuable Journal, addressed
as below. Success to the Journal.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">J. W. Seay.</span></p>
<p><i>Monroe, Iowa.</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">83</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Introduction_of_Unimpregnated_Queens">Introduction of Unimpregnated Queens.</h2>
<p>That the introduction of unfecundated queens
should be so often spoken of, and that too by
some of our experienced bee-keepers, as a matter
of much difficulty, is a question to me almost incomprehensible.
In the hands of the inexperienced,
or of those ignorant of the first principles
of success, a few failures ought not to be wondered
at. But for those having a knowledge of
the prerequisites for the acceptance of a stranger
queen by a colony of bees, to talk of the safe introduction
of unimpregnated queens, as an act of
uncertainty, induces me to believe that they have
either not experimented at all on this part of
practical bee-culture, or else did so to little
profit.</p>
<p>If it be true, as has been asserted time and
again in the <span class="smcap">Bee Journal</span>, that the only means
the bees have of recognizing strangers, is by the
sense of smell, it stands to reason that, if a stranger
queen be confined in a hive long enough to
acquire the scent of the hive, the bees will immediately
accept her as their own, especially if they
have no young queens in process of rearing.</p>
<p>Acting upon this principle the past summer, I
confined my young queens in small wire cages,
and inserted them as near as I could in the centre
of the hive; at the same time taking the precaution
to provide them with food during their confinement.
The result was that out of a goodly
number of unimpregnated queens, introduced in
swarming time, not one was lost. We have also
succeeded admirably in introducing them, by scenting
both queen and bees with some liquid having
a peculiar scent. By either method, we regard
the safe introduction of a queen bee, whether
fertile or not, as a matter of certainty: where the
queens themselves are kept from starving by
proper feeding.</p>
<p>We permitted natural swarming to some extent
this summer, in order to get hardy and prolific
queens. As we will break up a number of after-swarms
this fall, which were unfortunate in coming
late, we shall be able to furnish some who
prefer tested queens to all others, with a number
of finely colored queens raised in natural swarms,
cheap for cash.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">J. L. McLean.</span></p>
<p><i>Richmond, Jeff. Co., Ohio.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Introducing_Queens">Introducing Queens.</h2>
<p>As an introducer of queens I have not been
always successful. In several cases, after two
or three days caging, the queen has been accepted
all right, and within twenty-four hours
rejected. I watched one of these cases, in which
the queen, when liberated from the cage, was
caressed by the bees, until by and by one of a
different mind (and of a different body, too; for
I have noticed the first to attack a queen are the
small-bodied fellows) assailed her, and very
shortly was joined by others, until a mass imprisoned
her.</p>
<p>With Mrs. Tupper’s favorite method I have
sometimes succeeded, and sometimes failed; but
then the fault may have been all my own. I
have half drowned bees, queen and all, with diluted
honey strongly scented with peppermint,
and had the pleasure of seeing the drunken fools
fondle her as if they had always known her;
and then some one of the number, not fully saturated,
would attack her.</p>
<p>Latterly, I have taken a different plan, and
one which, according to all the authorities ought
uniformly to fail; but which, so far, has uniformly
succeeded here. It is simply this:</p>
<p>Wait until the bees have started queen cells.
Then, without any preparation whatever, put
any queen, fertile or unfertile, directly on the
comb, among the bees. That is all.</p>
<p>It may be that I shall fail the very next time;
but, until I do fail, I shall continue to practice
this plan. I give it to the Journal, in hopes that
some one else, having a queen or queens of no
value, will give it a trial. I have not tried it long
enough to consider it a settled thing; but shall
report to the Journal the first case of failure. Let
me relate a case of success:</p>
<p>August 1st, I put into an empty hive, No. 15,
one frame containing some honey and a very
few cells of <i>sealed</i> brood. I put into this hive a
young queen that had just commenced laying,
and set the hive in place of one containing a
strong colony. Of course the empty hive received
all the flying force of the strong colony.
On the next day they had destroyed the queen.
I then took a queen two or three years old, covered
her with honey completely, and dropped
her on the frames. She was received all right.
Next day, August 3d, I killed this queen and
introduced a <i>young</i> one in exactly the same
manner. She was promptly imprisoned, and I
released and caged her. August 5th, this queen
having been caged two days, is still refused.
August 6th, she is caressed by some of the bees,
but others imprison her. I then gave her to a
full colony, No. 1, which was queenless and had
queen cells started, some of which were sealed.
Placing her directly on the comb, without caging,
she was kindly received and soon commenced
laying. I then took from No. 1, the
frame with queen cells, and gave it to No. 13.
Three days later, August 9th, I gave to No. 15,
an unfertile queen three days old, placing her
directly on the comb. On the same day I gave
another full colony, having queen cells only a
day or two old, an unfertile queen three days
old. Being out of the State I did not see them
again till August 22d, when I found both queens
laying.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">C. C. Miller.</span></p>
<p><i>Marengo, Ill.</i>, Aug. 30, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>The smell of their own poison produces a
very irritating effect upon bees. A small portion
offered to them on a stick, will excite their
anger.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>After a swarm of bees is once lodged in their
new hive, they ought by all means be allowed to
carry on their operations, for some time, without
interruption.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">84</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Bee-culture_Honey_Products_Honey_Markets_c">Bee-culture, Honey Products, Honey Markets, &c.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—I herewith send you two dollars
as a further fee of incorporation in the bee family.
I have profited well by it this year. I was absent
on a tour in Europe last spring. On my return I
found my bees in poor condition. Two colonies
had died from dysentery or the warmth of the bee
cellar; and of the remaining sixteen stocks, two
were very weak, with some others in prime order.
I had but two Italian stocks left. As far as my
experience goes, I must give three cheers for the
Italians. The earliest natural swarm I got here
from blacks was on the 17th of June. This year
my first Italian swarm came off on the 13th of
May. The parent stock was a good one, though
I cannot set it down as my best in number of
bees. I had black colonies that were more populous.
As for this Italian, it yielded me fourteen
natural swarms, four of which left for the woods
and the remaining ten are in extra condition for
wintering. The parent hive and the first swarm
are the heaviest stocks in my apiary. I shall
Italianize all my colonies this fall. No man will
ever persuade me that black bees are as good. I
shall always consider such men as jealous or
prejudiced. The advantages derived from Italian
bees are well worth paying for—their early
swarming and their rapid breeding are sufficient
compensation. The color of the queen, too, is a
great advantage when looking for her in the
crowd on the comb, and her superior fertility is
an unquestionable fact. The fourth swarm came
off in May. It was small; but as it had a beautiful
Italian queen, I put it in a box hive, and today
it has nearly filled a twenty pound box. The
season from the beginning of May to the middle
of July was very good. My hives were so full
of honey that no empty cells were to be seen. I
have brought up the number of my colonies to
forty-five, and four swarms left for the woods;
and thus far I have sold seven hundred (700)
pounds of honey.</p>
<p>According to the Report of the Commissioner
of Agriculture, there are between 70,000 and
100,000 bee-keepers in this country. If so, the
number who subscribe for the <span class="smcap">Bee Journal</span> is
comparatively small. Why is this so? According
to my observation and experience there are
two reasons. First, because the population of
this republic is largely composed of emigrants
from all nations, and although they and their immediate
descendants may speak and understand
English, yet they are not able to read or write it
readily. Every one sticks more or less to his
native language, and prefers reading newspapers
printed in that language, because he understands
it best. The second reason or cause is jealousy.
It is a fact well known to every bee-keeper away
from large cities, that the sale of honey is very
slow in small cities and towns; and it is often
impossible to sell at a remunerating price. Thus,
for instance, Green Bay is a city of 8,000 inhabitants;
yet one bee-keeper with 100 hives can
fully supply the annual market of that city in a
good year. It is of vastly more importance to
write on this subject and induce an extension of
the market demand for honey, than to teach
fertilization by one or more drones. Bee keeping
is now very profitable—more so than is acknowledged
in print; but men have a disposition to
keep the thing to themselves. It is very often the
case that a bee-keeper instructs his neighbors in
the art of managing bees successfully and profitably,
and as soon as these are well posted in the
business, they become a source of annoyance,
contempt, and jealousy to their instructors. This
makes it the more necessary to make more extensively
known the best honey markets that are
now to be found, and any additional outlets and
uses for honey that may be opened or devised.
In France enormous quantities of honey are used
in the fabrication of honey bread, called <i>pain
d’epice</i>. I wish our friend C. Dadant would give
us a receipt how to make the best kind. This
might become an American institution as well as
a French one. The reputation of this delicacy is
world-wide, as well as that of the French wines
so much liked here. Vinegar also is said to be of
superior quality, when made in a perfect way
from honey. I should be glad to obtain some reliable
information as to the <i>best</i> kind of it. Much
honey is spoiled, as many other things are also,
by using it when not properly prepared. Let us
have the true results of experience. Another
matter, not less important, is the preparation of
good mead. A bottle of good mead is equal to
the best wine; women in confinement use it in
preference to wine, and with far more benefit. I
think mead can be made as cheap as, or cheaper
than whiskey. Good fermented mead ought to
be sold in all wine stores for medicinal purposes
and other uses. It is used in Belgium extensively
as a summer drink.</p>
<h3>BEE HOUSE.</h3>
<p>I am going to build me a bee house of cedar
logs, twenty feet by sixteen inside, stuffed with
one foot of saw-dust; and I wish to know how I
can give the greatest amount of ventilation in
winter, without light. I want the largest amount
of ventilation, combined with the largest amount
of darkness; and desire to know where and how
to place the ventilators, and of what material
these should be made—whether of wood, iron, or
lead? If possible, let us have a sketch or side
view. Did I not fear that <span class="smcap">Novice</span> was drowned
in honey, I would ask him to have the kindness
to furnish the information according to his experience.
Perhaps we should send in contributions
to the editor to offer a premium for a design
for the best bee-wintering house, to contain a
hundred hives as described above. Bee-wintering
is one of the most important points in bee-culture
now, and bee-keepers could well afford to contribute
towards procuring the best plan of a house.</p>
<p>Now, dear editor, although a passenger in the
sleeping car, I am for progress. Thirteen swarms
from one—say one brought up to fourteen, is a true
American fact. If I had set the fourteen in four
hives, with ample space for boxes, it would have
been a pity for my blacks to compare results. I
drummed out my old hive and first swarm, and
cut three pails of honey out of them. Then I
returned the bees, and the gaps are again nearly
closed. I wish now to say
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">85</span>
<span class="large table">SOMETHING ON HIVES.</span></p>
<p>Last year I made me three Price hives according
to Vol. IV., page 87. On inspecting my
hives, after the bees had been put in, I found in
the first one all its frames lodged on one side.
To obviate this, I drove small tack-nails on
top sidewards, to hold the frames at proper distance
apart; but this does not do. In lifting out
the frames I slightly damaged brood and honey.
The second hive was in order, but the combs
very uneven. The third had its combs straight
every time, impossible to be otherwise down to
the middle; but from the middle corners down
to the lower corner they were fastened together
and all gone astray. Further, the crushing of
bees by the honey-board annoyed me much.
They are so very heavy and troublesome to handle,
that I have broken up the whole concern.</p>
<p>Now, I have constructed a hive on the Gallup
pattern, say one foot square, and use twelve
frames in it. This is what I like. My combs
are as straight as a piece of board, and very easy
to handle. I shall stick to it. But, dear editor,
I fear I have infringed on some one’s patent, and
I do not like others to do the thinking, and myself
to reap the harvest—which is about as criminal
as stealing another man’s brains. The question
is: whom have I to pay? My frames are
made thus:</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/i027.jpg" alt="" /></p>
<p>They hang on a rabbet, suspended by half an
inch of iron wire, the thickness of an ordinary
lead pencil. They are very easy to take out, and
are never gummed fast. Now, do you not think
I have infringed the Langstroth principle? If
so, please inform me. My frames are three-quarters
of an inch thick, and are very strong.
I have had much trouble with frames as commonly
made, when filled with honey. They are
then too weak.</p>
<p>Finally, I have constructed
<span class="large table">A HONEY MACHINE</span>
according to Mr. Hubbard’s description. I had
not the slightest trouble in making it. My can
of zinc, eighteen inches in diameter and twenty
inches high; cost three dollars. The iron wire
cost one dollar, but I had more than enough.
The whole cost was less than five dollars. I
used the crank of a fanning-mill, to see what
effect it would have, but found it too long. I
was compelled to turn it with a peg half way
down, which is just the thing. I can turn it as
rapidly as wanted—so rapid, indeed, that the
larvæ would be thrown out. I shall use no gearing.
I found the machine all that could be
desired, and only regret that I had it not in
June. The queens might have produced some
thousands of pets more, if empty cells had been
provided for them. Now, something about>
<span class="large table">STRONG STOCKS.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Novice</span> says if we are well-rooted anywhere it
is in <i>strong stocks</i>. This, I find, is a very indefinite
saying. I wish some one would give me a
clear idea of what is meant by the expression
<i>strong stocks</i>. Is it a large, prime swarm, or a
first and a second swarm united, or any swarm
well wintered and built up by spring feeding on
Gallup’s system?</p>
<p>Ah, indeed, N. Woodworth, of Rochester,
Wisconsin, on page 47, Vol. VI., has thrown
a skunk in the face of the bee family. A skunk
cannot stink more than that statement. Surely,
he designs to see what effect it will have. Well,
the best way is to let the skunk alone. The
meanest bee-gum bee-keeper who manages to
winter his bees so that they do not all die, has to
acknowledge that bee-keeping pays; how much
more can one accomplish who knows how to
employ skilfully scientific means and methods?</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Joseph Duffeler.</span><br/></p>
<p><i>Rousseau, Wis.</i>, August 26.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]<br/></p>
<h2 id="Queen-Breeding_for_Improvement_of_Race">Queen-Breeding for Improvement of Race.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—In the September number of
your excellent Journal, page 58, Mr. Alley
accuses the writer of “pitching into him.” But
I find he can still hold up his head and “pitch”
back, as well as raise cheap queens; so he is not
badly wounded. But, to be serious, I most sincerely
regret that any sentence in my article, in
the August number, was so worded that it was
thought to be personal. It has been a favorite
project with me to see the honey bee improved
to its highest possible extent. And even Mr.
Alley concedes the principle for which I contend.
For, says he, “<i>I pay the highest prices for my
breeding queens, and now have queens of my own
raising that I would not sell for fifty dollars.</i>”
This is a higher price than I proposed for such
queens, five or six times over. He says he will
take my whole lot at my figures, if I have such
queens as I describe. I would not like to spare
them, Mr. Alley, for I value them as highly as
you do <i>your</i> best queens!</p>
<p>I do not doubt that every man who gets a
queen from Mr. Alley, or from any other man
who sends the genuine breed, gets the worth of
his money; but what I did mean to say, was,
that if a man wishes to get the highest grade of
Italians, let him get one that has been raised from
the best selected stock, under the eye of an experienced
apiarian, and thoroughly tested before
she is used as a breeder. Then the buyer will
know what he is getting, and would find his
purchase cheap at twenty dollars—rather than
one that was untested and raised at haphazard,
at two dollars and a half.</p>
<p>I repeat—Let the Queen-Raising Brotherhood
unite to state these facts fairly and squarely before
the world; and let men who believe in sharp
practice keep such things out of sight.</p>
<p>I, too, if ever I go into the business again, will
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">86</span>
sell queens at $2.50, sending them out as soon as
they begin to lay eggs, to any number ordered,
guaranteeing that all the workers shall show three
yellow bands, when filled with honey. But, if
tested and guaranteed as breeders, I would ask
ten dollars each. If I was going to commence
Italianizing an apiary, I would send to some responsible
man, such as Langstroth, Colvin,
Quinby, Gallup, Mrs. Tupper, or Mr. Alley; and
in the room of sending $2.50, I would say, “fix
your own price, but send me the best queen you
can select!” for I would rather have such a one
than four of average untested queens. And
putting the seller upon his honor, I think I should
get the <i>best</i>, where all were good.</p>
<p>Others may differ from me in opinion, yet I
have given the public my views honestly.</p>
<p>Mr. George C. Silsby has my thanks for his
courteous criticism of my article. Mr. J. E. Pond
likewise, though he misapprehends my intention
to attack any one but sharpers, who sell for pure
Italians what no one, qualified to judge, would
call even a good hybrid. I know nothing of Mr.
Alley only through his advertisement, and of
course knew nothing of the quality of his bees.
But while I know nothing of him, I do know
men who sent to where it was most convenient
and cheapest, and straightway they became
queen-breeders, and supplied the country round,
in turn, with <i>genuine queens</i>. It would take an
expert often, to detect a particle of Italian breed
in many such colonies that I know of.</p>
<p>In such cases, often, the queen-breeder himself
did not know that he was selling a spurious
article. I may have been foolish, but I did send
to Italy for stock that cost me twenty dollars
each, when I could have procured stock from
Mr. Langstroth for five dollars each. The same
year I procured a queen from Mr. Colvin for
fifteen dollars, tested, in preference; and the
very next year I sent fifteen dollars to Mr. Langstroth,
for a tested and superior queen, when he
would have sold me an untested one for half the
money. I think still that the money was well
invested.</p>
<p>Two years ago I left the personal supervision
of queen raising, and a gentleman by the name
of J. L. Strong is now conducting the same
apiary, at Mount Pleasant, Iowa. He has not
been able to supply all his orders this season.
My articles were dated from that place; but my
residence is at Ottumwa, Iowa, where I am trying
to fill the place of pastor of one of the Methodist
Episcopal Churches of that city. I have
raised just <i>four</i> queens this season, one of which
was a hybrid. These I have used in making
new swarms. I have five colonies here, which
still interest me greatly, although there are not
many dollars and cents, as income, in the enterprise,
and I take all the profits in honey for my
table. So you see I am not a very formidable
rival in the trade.</p>
<p>But, in common with the brotherhood, “<i>bee
on the brain</i>,” is a chronic complaint with me,
and I never shall recover from it; and every man
who talks <i>bees</i>, or writes <i>bees</i>, or <i>raises queen bees
for $2.50</i>, or any other price, has traits that make
me regard him as a <i>brother</i>. And if I write an
occasional article, don’t think I am “pitching
into” some one, or writing to “show off.” Then,
further, if you find my articles only half as interesting
to you, as yours are to me, I shall be
content. In the meantime let us raise no false
expectations; but so write that we can put in
the hands of the cottager, occupying a few square
roods, the means of keeping, in an intelligent
manner, from twenty to one hundred colonies
that shall bring him as much profit as the owner
of a farm reaps from his broad acres.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">E. L. Briggs.</span></p>
<p><i>Ottumwa, Iowa.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="The_Economic_Hive_and_Gallups">The Economic Hive, and Gallup’s.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span> (and some one says that means
everybody):—As I receive many letters asking
what I think of the Economic Hive, mentioned
and described in several numbers of the last
volume of the Journal, suppose you allow me to
answer them at once through the pages of the
Journal. It will save me much trouble, and obviate
the necessity of replying to the same questions
asked over and over again, by different inquirers.
Another matter I would like to speak
about. I receive a great many inquiries somewhat
like this—“Mr. Gallup, I am a new subscriber
to the American Bee Journal.” &c., &c.,
and asking me for information about such and
such articles, or what does such or such a writer
mean, &c. Now, gentlemen, I am perfectly willing
to answer your questions, but it appears to
me that your very best plan would be to send
the money to the publisher, and get the back
numbers of the Journal. You would certainly
get the worth of your money; and then you can
understand what the writers mean, better than
I can tell you in one short letter.</p>
<p>Well, here I am off the track, as sure as fate.
To return; in the first place, the Economic Hive
and the hive I use, are (with slight variation)
substantially the same. Both can be used in the
same manner, in every respect. I have used
them with from ten to fifteen frames, but for
general use, twelve are sufficient. All it needs
is to make the hive wider or narrower, to accommodate
more or less frames. In using my hive
two story, I make the second story the same
depth as the first. My frames hang on small
three-cornered cleats instead of on rabbetings;
and to make any hive into a second story box,
draw the small finishing nails out of the cleats
and nail them on again, low enough down to allow
one-fourth of an inch space between the
upper frames and the lower, without the honey-board.
Now, all that is necessary to convert this
into two hives, is to move those cleats back to
their former places again. In placing this top
box on and lowering the cleats, it leaves an inch
and a quarter space between the top of the
lower frames and the honey-board. Now drive
four finishing nails into the sides of the hive,
inside, leaving the heads project one-fourth of an
inch above the frames. Then fit in an inch
board and let it rest on those projecting nails.
This will fill up so much of the vacant space
under the honey-board.—In putting on the third
story, I make my boxes so as to fit inside the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</span>
hive, <i>on the frames</i>, and do not use the honey-board
between the boxes and hive in any case.
This third story is only used with very strong stocks.</p>
<p>Once more, I will say that this hive suits me,
and can be used for every purpose, in forming
nuclei. You can raise four queens in it, as Mr.
Truesdell says, and by inserting three division
boards you can make it into four small hives. The
entrance on the four sides of the hive are all in
the bottom board. It can be accommodated to
any size of swarm, simply by using the division
boards, or not, as the case requires. In short,
read what Mr. Truesdell says about the hive,
and also what I have previously said about it;
and then read what I say in the “Annals of
Bee-culture for 1870” (when it comes out) about
the best method of having honey stored in combs
for market—decidedly the best, in my opinion;
better than any glass boxes I ever saw. In such
a hive you have one adapted either to a poor
honey district, or to a good one. It will accommodate
the largest, as well as the smallest swarm
you ever saw. It is cheap and simple. Understand,
I am not cracking up this hive to make
money out of it, for it is not patented, and I
have no time to make any to sell.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">E. Gallup.</span></p>
<p><i>Orchard, Iowa.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="The_Gallup_Hive">The Gallup Hive.</h2>
<p>I wonder sometimes how many bee-keepers
have tried the Gallup Hive, there being so many
other hives that are so highly recommended. I
have made and used, now for two seasons, more
than a dozen of the Gallup form of hive; and
thus far I think it is good for all that Gallup
claims for it. Simple in its construction, easily
and cheaply made, and for one, I cannot conceive
how any hive could be better adapted or
more convenient to form nuclei with full sized
combs, to raise queens, to equalize bees and
stores, build up stocks, exchange combs promiscuously
from hive to hive, &c., &c. No trouble
about the frames hanging true, and I think I can
handle a set of frames in the Gallup form of hive
in as short a time as I can in the Langstroth standard;
and I am using both. If the several parts
of the Gallup hive are correctly made and put
in place, it is almost air-tight; and yet any
amount of air, whether much or little, can be
given and regulated, even to the extent of suspending
the hive in mid-air, with top and bottom
off, if it were necessary. Its surplus honey arrangement
can be made to suit location or fancy.
I do not suppose that Novice or Grimm, or some
others, would do any better by using the Gallup
hive; but my circumstances are very different
from theirs. And as it is of the utmost importance
to me to use only one kind of hive, I intend
to use the Gallup form exclusively as soon as I
can, without material loss.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Henry Crist.</span></p>
<p><i>Lake P. O., O.</i>, Sept. 7, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>Those that boast most, fail most, for deeds are
tongue-tied.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Palmer_Brothers_and_the_Thomas_Hive">Palmer Brothers and the Thomas Hive.</h2>
<p>It is due to myself and to Palmer Brothers to
say that their article, so greatly in favor of my
hive, was written without my knowledge and
entirely upon their own responsibility.</p>
<p>While I feel grateful to them for their high
opinion of my hive, and the impartial manner in
which they have spoken of it, I may be allowed
to correct two or three items in the description
thereof. They have purchased the territory for
these hives before the alterations of which I am
about to speak were made.</p>
<p>“<i>Advantage 8th</i>” (see <span class="smcap">Bee Journal</span>, Vol. VI.,
No. 2, Aug. 1870.) “There is a passage through
the bottom board, covered with wire cloth,
through which the bees receive air,” &c. After
five years’ experience and experimenting with
the hive and the best method of ventilating, I
now make the bottom board without any hole
through it, preferring instead to put a hole
through the rear end board of the hive, about one
inch from the bottom, and covered with wire
cloth. The hole is an inch and a half in diameter,
and allows a circulation of air from front to
rear. I consider this the best method of ventilating
a hive, and in most, if not all cases, quite
sufficient, and especially so with an entrance such
as I use in my hive, and with which Palmer
Brothers were not acquainted for reasons already
stated. I will just say the entrance is so constructed,
with a double zinc gauge, that it can be
enlarged in a moment of time to half an inch
deep and the full width of the hive, and contracted
in the same time to half an inch square.</p>
<p>“<i>Advantage 16th.</i> The bottom slants to the
front.” It may be made inclined or level, as desired
by the builder.</p>
<p>“<i>Advantage 18th.</i> One, two, or four boxes
may be used.” Six square boxes, suitable for
market, may be used.</p>
<p>“<i>Disadvantage 3d.</i> The improvements are worse
than useless, to one who will not properly use
them.” This is true of all frame hives. If a bee-keeper
intends to let his bees die, with no attention
on his part, he certainly will save the expense
of improvements by setting them in a hollow
log.</p>
<p>To those parties who may purchase territory I
will send a sample hive, paying all charges to the
line. See advertisement, and make an offer.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">J. H. Thomas.</span></p>
<p><i>Brooklin, Ontario.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Bee_Cholera">Bee Cholera.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—I see that many persons have
lost their bees by what is called Bee Cholera. I
have had some bees die with the same disease.
I then took a colony after one half the bees
were dead, ventilated the hive well, and carried
it into the stove room, and kept it there the
space of eight days. It is now a strong colony.
I suppose the heat of the room evaporated some
of the water in the honey.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">B. R. Hopkins.</span></p>
<p><i>Tyrone, Pa.</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">88</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Hive_for_Nuclei">Hive for Nuclei.</h2>
<p>The experience of a single season satisfies me
well with a hive for nuclei, made by simply
taking the ordinary Langstroth hive, separating
it into six compartments, and making the entrances
face in different directions, in this manner:</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/i033.jpg" alt="" /></p>
<p>Nos. 1 and 6 have the entrances at the back
end of the sides, at the upper corner. Nos. 2
and 5 have a hole bored through the bottom, and
the bottom board channelled, making the entrances
come out underneath the front end of the
sides at the <i>lower</i> corner. The entrance of No.
3 is in front, at the regular entrance; and No. 4
has an entrance at the back end.</p>
<p>“But will not the queens enter the wrong compartment,
on returning from their excursions?”
I have raised fifteen or twenty in a hive of this
kind, and have never lost any.</p>
<p>Instead of a honey board, a strip of board
covers each division separately, so that each
nucleus can be examined without disturbing the
others.</p>
<p>The ordinary frame is used, and the principal
advantage of the hive consists in the mutual
warmth gained.</p>
<p>I think it pays to keep reserve queens constantly
on hand; and I mean to try whether I
cannot winter a few queens in this way.</p>
<p>I have raised some queens by letting the nucleus
have brood to start queen cells from; but they
have been slow coming to maturity; and after
they have laid a few eggs, they are sometimes
discarded and a young queen raised from the
brood. The trouble seems to be that where
queen cells are started by a small cluster of bees,
they do not feed the grubs plentifully enough,
and when the queen hatches out not a particle
of royal jelly is found in the cell. Whereas,
when a strong colony raises a queen, the cell will
contain a large quantity of jelly after the young
queen emerges. To obtain good queens, I take
the following plan. I take a frame containing
only eggs laid by my best queen, and put it into
an empty hive, and set this in the place of a
strong colony. Cells will be started and the
grubs liberally fed, and as soon as they are sealed
over, I cut them out and give them to the nuclei.
I then give the hive a laying queen, and two or
more frames of sealed brood, according to the
time of year, and have a good colony.</p>
<p>I am waiting patiently for <span class="smcap">Novice</span> to invent a
machine for making straight worker comb; for
as yet I have found no way of securing all
worker comb, except to have it built by a weak
colony. My bees build some drone comb of very
strong, even if their queen is not a month old;
and they will build worker comb, <i>whilst raising
queens</i>, if <small>WEAK ENOUGH</small>.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">C. C. Miller.</span></p>
<p><i>Marengo, Ill.</i>, Aug. 30, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Around_among_Apiaries">Around among Apiaries.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—As I have been visiting among
bee-keeping friends, I will give you a few lines
that may interest some of your readers. The
season here has been very variable in the yield of
honey from the clover blossoms and also from
honey dew.</p>
<p>I made a short visit to Hess & Co.’s apiary,
some ten miles from Fulton, on the Iowa side of
the Mississippi, who have about one hundred and
eighty colonies. Their bees did not yield much
white clover or basswood honey, but did well on
honey dew. The honey from the latter is very
dark and sticky, and to most persons is of poor
flavor. Their bees did not swarm much this
season, though they are surrounded with all the
early flowering trees, such as soft maple and
hard elm, willow, and all other kinds natural
to our soil, alike on the islands, bottoms, and
uplands.</p>
<p>I next visited Marvin & Bros., of St. Charles,
Ill. Their apiary numbers one hundred and
seventy-five to two hundred stocks. Their bees
have not done anything to speak of, and from
appearance and prospects, they will have to be
fed to go through the winter. There was hardly
any rain here from the last of March to the last
of June. White clover blossomed very little,
and Alsike was almost a failure from the drouth.
It did not grow tall enough to be cut for seed,
where it did come into bloom. But Messrs.
Marvin are not discouraged. They think there
is a good time coming yet for bees, though it be
not this season. They have some of the great
Rocky Mountain bee plant growing, but it has
not done anything for them since they have had
it. It is now in full bloom, yet very seldom a
bee lights on it.</p>
<p>I also made a brief call on M. M. Baldridge,
the secretary of the great National Bee Hive
Company, at St. Charles. His bees will likewise
have to be fed, to go safely through the
winter, if fall pasturage do not supply sufficient
honey for their need. Mr. Baldridge is doing a
considerable business in manufacturing honey
emptying machines, now that the demand for
beehives is over for this year.</p>
<p>I next visited Mr. Thompson, of Geneva. He
is young in the bee business, but quite enthusiastic.
Although he lost all his bees last winter, he
was not discouraged, but tried again this season.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">89</span>
Like most new beginners, he increased his stock
rather too rapidly, especially in so poor a season
as this has proved to be in that section generally.
Bees, however, did somewhat better at Geneva
than at St. Charles, only two miles away. At
Batavia, the same distance below, the bees have
done moderately well. Let me remark here that
the rains, throughout the West, for the most part
went in narrow streaks this season, especially in
June, sometimes not over half a mile wide. This
accounts for the difference in the condition of
colonies in apiaries only a few miles apart.</p>
<p>I called on Mr. Way, at Batavia, and took a
look at his bees and honey. He has a good
supply of surplus white clover honey on hand,
having been fortunate enough to be within the
range of one of the seasonable rain streaks.
The most of his colonies have honey enough to
pass the winter safely, if they should not be able
to gather any more. I was told that the good
people of Batavia tried to get friend Way’s bees
expelled from the city limits, as a nuisance, for
fear they might possibly sting somebody!</p>
<h3>AMONG THE HONEY DEALERS OF CHICAGO.</h3>
<p>I do not think that the largest honey dealer in
Chicago is doing the fair thing by his patrons—that
is, if he wishes to do a permanent business
and retain his best customers. He would rather
buy honey in large boxes and frames, and then
cut it into three or four small strips, put it in
glass jars, and fill up the jars with inferior
strained or Cuba honey. At the same time he
discourages the bee-keepers from taking their
honey from the combs with the melextractor, for
the simple reason, I suppose, that he can make
more money by straining the honey himself, as I
was told he had a nice steam apparatus for fixing
over strained honey.</p>
<p>As to the commission men, there are not many
of them to be trusted, as it is seldom that honey
is handled with the care it ought to receive; and
when it gets to leaking, they sell it for any price
they can get, in order to be rid of it.</p>
<p>There is a great fault, too, in the manner of
shipping it, to have it go through in good shape,
as the railroad men do not handle things very
carefully. To get the best price from honest
dealers, the box honey must be put up in neat,
small boxes, weighing not over seven pounds
gross; and to get a market established for extracted
honey, it should be shipped to some reliable
man; and the jars must be labelled with the
quality of the honey and the name of the producer.
Then the agent can recommend it to his
customers, and warrant it pure; and all you
have should be shipped exclusively to him.
When properly put up, I do not think there is
much to be feared from adulteration.</p>
<p class="author">
X.</p>
<p><i>Fulton, Ill.</i>, Sept. 5, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>A good swarm of bees, put in a diminutive hive,
in a good season, may be compared to a powerful
team of horses harnessed to a baby wagon,
or a noble fall of water wasted in turning a petty
water-wheel.—<i>Langstroth.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>Narrow minds think nothing right that is above
their own capacity.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Queen_Raising_Experience_and_Observations">Queen Raising.—Experience and Observations.</h2>
<p>Too early last spring, I commenced by artificial
means to raise queen bees. Using only
about a pint of bees, they became chilled during
the night, and would cluster in the corner or
top of the hive, deserting the larvæ and the unhatched
young. This was in March. During
the latter part of the month of April, however, I
succeeded admirably in hatching them; but two-thirds
were lost on their wedding tours.</p>
<p>I had as many as six queen cells which were
<i>to hatch</i> on a certain day. I was not at home on
that day, but returned late in the evening, and
on examining No. 1 (a full colony), I found the
queen had just emerged, the cap or end of the
cell still clinging by a small particle of wax, and
the queen on the same frame within a few inches
of the cell. No. 2 had also hatched during the
day, appearing to be a few hours older. No. 3
was then visited, which was in a nucleus, and I
found only two worker bees in the hive,—the
queen cell being still perfect. I had the evening
before given this nucleus some strained honey, in
a bungling manner, and did not contract the entrance
of the hive as I should have done, and
they were robbed. My wife, early in the morning,
noticed unusual activity at this hive. The
little family, I suppose, had helped to remove
their limited stores to the hives of the robbers,
and taken up their abode there, as usually occurs
in such cases. But, to return to our queen cell,
I removed it carefully and opened the end of it,
when, to my surprise, out crawled the queen on
my hand. Some honey was given to her, and in a
few minutes she was quite lively. She was then
introduced to a queenless colony, and was well
received; but was lost on going out on the eighth
day. No. 4 was not examined until the next
day, when a nice Italian queen was moving
amongst the workers; with as much dignity as
belongs to one not yet having attained her majority.
After an interval of about three days, I
examined the hive and saw the queen every day
until about the eighth, when late in the evening,
after sunset, on examination I found she was
gone. On closing the hive the bees came running
out and showed all the signs of having recently
lost their queen, such as are often seen;
and kept up that distressing search by crawling
over the hive and on the ground in its immediate
vicinity until after dark. The hive was again
examined with great scrutiny on the following
morning, and she was not there. At eleven
o’clock a natural first swarm issued from a hive
of native brown bees in the apiary, and after flying
around five minutes, clustered on the stem
and at the root of a cherry tree. I proceeded to
hive them, and when half the swarm had passed
into the hive, I saw the black queen march in.
Only a few minutes more elapsed before all the
bees had gone in, except a little ball or lump the
size of a partridge egg near the root of the tree.
I stirred them up with a stick, thinking they
were not cognizant of the fact that their queen
had gone in and the house was prepared and
ready for them; but they had no disposition to
disengage themselves. Taking the ball of bees
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</span>
in my hand, I examined them and found they
were clumped around my lost Italian queen. I
dropped them in a pan of water, when every one
let go its hold, and the queen was free and apparently
unharmed. I returned her from whence
she came, and in a few minutes the grieved
family were buzzing their joyful wings at her
return. In a subsequent examination on that
day, she was crushed between two frames. The
question arises, how she came to be with this
native colony? I have my surmises, but will
leave others to judge for themselves.</p>
<p>My experience has been that more Italian
queens get lost in their attempts to meet the
drones, than native black or brown queens. Of
the superiority of the Italian or Ligurian workers,
of their disposition, as well as that of the
hybrids, I will speak at some other time. Did it
ever occur to you, if the yellow-bearded Italians
were natives of our country, and we had been
used to looking at them all our lives, and the
black were now just discovered and introduced,
what praises would be heaped upon the <i>dub</i> tails?
Campbell uttered a truism when he said—“’Tis
distance lends enchantment to the view.” But
do not set me down as against the yellow-jackets.
I have been giving them a fair trial for
two years—or, rather, an unfair one, for I have
tried their strength and weakness, in dividing
and subdividing; and when they are reduced to
almost a handful, they work with a heroism
really commendable.</p>
<p>And right here I wish to say that I think if the
Rev. Mr. Briggs, whose article appeared in a
former number of the Journal, alludes to queens
sent out by Mr. Alley, of Massachusetts, and
deems them not reliable by reason of their low
price, he is mistaken. I ordered one from Mr.
Alley, and through mistake he sent me two,
either one of which, or their workers, will compare
favorably with those of anybody. They
are not, indeed, as long or as large as your index
finger; but I have queens in my yard from various
sources, and among them these are the
prettiest. Time only will prove the working
qualities of the laborers they produce.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Wm. P. Henderson.</span></p>
<p><i>Murfreesboro, Tenn.</i>, Aug. 31, 1870.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[NOTE: The Italian queens are, from the brightness of their
color, a much more “shining mark” when on the wing, than
black queens. Hence, when out on their excursions, they
are more liable to be “snapped up” by birds, and doubtless
many are thus lost every year. Southern bee-keepers probably
suffer more from this circumstance than their northern
confreres, as insectivorous birds are more abundant with
them.</p>
<p>In some portions of Italy the Ligurian bees were cultivated
for centuries, side by side with the common or black bees;
yet the difference between them, as regards color or quality,
seems to have attracted no attention. But it must be borne
in mind that bee-culture fell into decay there, after the
fall of the Roman Empire, passing into the hands of a rude
and ignorant peasantry. Whereas the superiority of the
Ligurians and Cecropians was well known and appreciated
in the classic period of the nominal republic. Since the revival
of the bee business in Italy (to which it has largely contributed)
the Ligurian bee has measurably recovered its pristine
favor, and is getting to be preferred everywhere.—<small>ED.</small>]</p>
</blockquote>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>The yield of honey by various plants and trees
depends not only on the character of the season,
but on the kind of soil on which they grow.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="The_Queen_Nursery">The Queen Nursery.</h2>
<p>As the readers of the <span class="smcap">American Bee Journal</span>
are somewhat anxious to hear about the Queen
Nursery, invented by Dr. Jewell Davis, of
Charleston, Illinois, I will say that it is a perfect
success. I have, since the first of June, kept mine
running to its full capacity (twelve cages). I have
allowed the queens to remain in the cages six or
eight days after hatching. I now have his fertilizing
attachment, but have not yet tested it.
Young, unimpregnated queens can be introduced
by Alley’s process, to any queenless colony. I
will give a fuller report, and how to use it, this
fall or winter. I consider it quite an advantage
to save all natural queen cells, and hatch them
out in the Nursery; and it is no disadvantage
certainly to have a supply of young queens on
hand, at so small an expense, to give to a natural
or artificial swarm, at swarming time, even if
they are not fertilized. When you can draw on
your nursery for a queen, at any time at sight,
it is quite an advantage; at least I consider it
so. It is a positive fact that queens perish in
their cells by the thousand, in the natural state,
in extremely hot weather. In using the Nursery
we can control this matter; for if the weather is
extra hot, we place the Nursery in a small colony;
and in a large strong one, if the weather is cool.
Thus you will see that we have the hatching entirely
under our own control, and it is not left to
chance. The queen breeder can readily see the
advantage of separating all his queen cells as
soon as sealed over, and having them perfectly
safe. I have kept my Nursery in a medium
swarm, where they had a perfect queen breeding
at the same time. As I said before, queens can
be kept in the Nursery any length of time, with
perfect safety. I place a small piece of comb
containing honey in the cage, between the tins,
then place the cell in the cage in a natural position
and fasten it with a pin. A very slight
fastening answers, as the bees cannot get at it
to gnaw it down.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">E. Gallup.</span></p>
<p><i>Orchard, Iowa</i>, July 15, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Paper_Hives_and_Z_C_Fairbanks">Paper Hives and Z. C. Fairbanks.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—Don’t you think that Mr.
Fairbanks seems a little cross as well as sharp.
He says I assert in my first article what I contradict
in my second on paper hives; and, worst
of all, says I am to be numbered with the gentiles,
whom Dr. Cox gulled to the tune of heavy
sums. I deny the charge, and demand proof;
though I will say for the benefit of brother Fairbanks,
that I think the Doctor a <i>little</i> too smooth
for <i>profit</i>. But, to explain, we call the paper
hive, of whatever form, Dr. Cox’s hive; and so
should we call all movable frame hives, the
Farmer’s box with Langstroth frames therein.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Charles Hastings.</span><br/></p>
<p><i>Dowagiac, Mich.</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">91</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="The_Looking-glass_Again">The Looking-glass Again.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—I have used the looking-glass
often for arresting swarms, rarely failing; but <i>I
have always used it in conjunction with the shotgun</i>.
Used thus, it seems to induce in the bees the idea
of an approaching storm, and that they ought to
be securing a place of safety as quick as possible.</p>
<p>Out of a number of examples, I give the following:</p>
<p>A second swarm proved to be bent on emigrating,
for on six consecutive days it left as many
different hives. Each time it was brought to anchor
by the looking-glass, &c. The last time the
bees fell as if shot dead, at the flash and report.
And for aught I know and saw, they might have
kept trying to this day.</p>
<p>In some rare cases, however, I have failed to
bring the swarm to settle.</p>
<p>My bees have swarmed heavily this year, and
for a rarity seemed to select the tops of the highest
trees to settle on, and then would often leave
for the woods after hiving. Query, was there
any connection between the two facts?</p>
<p>The early season, here, was superior for honey,
up to the blooming of the white clover, which
was very scarce, and almost devoid of honey.
The weather has been hot and dry, and no honey
since.</p>
<p>There has been no honey-dew since the war
near me; whilst a large piece of woods, three
miles off, seemed, two years ago, to be literally
flowing with honey-dew, and alive with bees.
The tract was three miles wide and five miles
long, and alive with bees, throughout its whole
extent, every day for several weeks. Did the
bees of the country gather there?</p>
<p>Your paper is read with intense interest. Long
may it live to contribute to the pleasure and profit
of bee-keepers.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">J. B. Townley.</span></p>
<p><i>Red Hill Depot, Albemarle Co., Va.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="The_Drouth_Bee_Pasturage_and_Queens">The Drouth, Bee Pasturage, and Queens.</h2>
<p>The honey season has not been good, in this
section of country, since the middle of June, in
consequence of continued hot and dry weather.
Two timely showers served to make a fair crop
of corn, but did not much increase the secretion
of honey—hence the bees have not gathered
more in that period of time than to supply their
daily consumption, and keep them brooding.
These points I have watched closely. The
white clover bloomed nearly two weeks earlier
this year, than usual here; and, therefore, by the
time the colonies had brooded up to the point of
swarming, the chief honey harvest was gone.
Hence, but few natural swarms came off, and
most of these came near starving to death, and
will require doubling up for wintering.</p>
<p>I made a number of artificial swarms, by taking
a comb of brood, honey, and bees, from six full
hives and putting them together into a new
hive—using empty frames to fill the vacancy
made in the old hives. The swarms thus made
have done well, compared with natural ones,
and will be in fair condition for winter.</p>
<p>It continues so dry yet that we cannot look for
a large yield of honey, either from buckwheat or
other flowers; nor, if we could, can we expect
much honey to be stored in boxes, where comb
has to be built to receive it, as the nights are becoming
too cool for comb-building.</p>
<p>I have seen the bees work incessantly for two
or three weeks, this season, upon the plant
known as Carpenter’s Square, (<span class="smcap">Scrophularea
nodosa Marilandica</span>, <i>Nodose Scrophularia</i>, <i>Figwort</i>,)
and also, as usual, on the Purple Polynesia,
which appears to yield honey remarkably in
hot and dry weather. In this vicinity, also, both
the black and the Italian bees have worked on the
red clover, during the last weeks of August. But,
more than all this, our bees this season seemed
compelled to visit the groceries for sugar and
other sweets, to supply the lack of honey in the
flowers, and have perished by thousands in their
demoralized eagerness to obtain them.</p>
<p>From all this we have learned again the <i>necessity</i>
of cultivating more extensively some crops or
plants that will yield honey in the usual barren interval
between the failing of the white clover and
the Alsike and the coming in of the buckwheat
and fall flowers. The linden trees supply this in
some localities, but not in ours—being too remote
from them. Buckwheat sown about the
first of June, will often fill this interval, and that
sown a month later will make the fall pasturage.
Thus, by a proper disposition of crops, we may,
with favorable weather, make a continued honey
harvest all the summer months; and, in unfavorable
weather, secure at least a partial supply
for the same period of time—thereby saving millions
of bees from the demoralizing effects of
visiting groceries, and the consequent loss of
their lives.</p>
<p>This summer my bees have not been disposed
to start as many queen cells as I desired; and,
hence, after supplying all my colonies with
queens, have not had as many as I wished, to
experiment with in the various proposed methods
of fertilization in confinement. But I have had
enough to show me that under our present knowledge
of these processes, none of them are as successful
as is desirable for the purposes of the
intelligent queen-raiser. I have learned, moreover,
that by most of the methods employed the
queens and drones become so excited, that, without
fostering the disposition for mating (the purpose
for which they are confined) they worry
themselves to death in a very short time. To
remedy this, I have made cages on the same
plan of my Queen Nursery cages, but larger
every way, with the covered way at one end
converted into an <i>ante-chamber</i> for the introduction
of the drones at the proper season, without
disturbing either the workers or the queen in the
queen’s <i>parlor</i>. In this parlor we put two
square inches of comb, filled with mature brood,
and, over this, three inches square of comb filled
with honey for feed; and in the vacant part of
it, we suspend a queen cell sealed over. Then,
after closing the door, place the cage in a populous
stock of bees, for the queen and workers to
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">92</span>
hatch. Thus, by the time the queen hatches,
she will have nearly a hundred workers in the
cage with her, and will not become uneasy or
excited to get out of the cage. She will thus remain
quiet on the comb, until she is old enough
to leave it and go in search of the drones. Near
this hour the drones can be introduced by the
little tin door at the bottom of the ante-chamber,
that door closed again and the tin slide carefully
removed. The drones and queen are thus let
together, without excitement or disturbance.
This cage may be made six inches long, by four
inches deep, and one and a half inches wide.
Then, by placing the comb in the middle, at the
back end of the parlor, with the capped cells
facing the wire sides, the bees can emerge from
the cells and pass all around the comb.</p>
<p>From various experiments I am led to conclude
that the above arrangement will approach
nearer to the thing wanted, than any of the
plans yet made public. I am, also, further convinced
that much attention must be paid to the
age of the young queen, and to the state of the
weather, in order to secure fertilization in confinement.
In fact, we must approach as near
as possible to the natural state of the circumstances
that govern the mating of queens and
drones. I may say, in addition, that it is evident
some queens will mate earlier than others,
if not hindered by bad weather. The meeting
of the queens and drones must not be attended
by any circumstances calculated to cause either
of them to become alarmed and seek release
from confinement; for if thus alarmed or excited,
they will worry themselves to death in a
few hours, or forget all their natural instinct for
mating or fertilization. On the plan above described
the queen feels at home where she was
hatched, with her hundred associates around her,
and under careful management, not liable to become
excited. The drones alone are liable to
be in any degree alarmed under this method;
and I find this is quickly removed by letting
them into the presence of a few workers, as in
the above case. If done quietly, little excitement
need occur.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Jewell Davis.</span></p>
<p><i>Charlestown, Ill.</i>, Sept. 5, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Bee-keeping_Advancing">Bee-keeping Advancing.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—We are doing a fine thing in
the bee business here this season. We (my
brother and I) are creating quite an interest in
bee-culture around here, by the use of our
Hruschka. The way we sling the honey out is a
caution. We have obtained six hundred and
twenty-five (625) pounds of extracted honey, and
six hundred and fifty (650) pounds of box honey
from eight colonies of bees, and have increased
them to twenty-two; and all the hives are full of
honey now—the result of scientific bee-culture.</p>
<p>Old fogy bee-keepers begin to open their eyes,
and think that bee-keeping is not all mere <i>luck</i>.
The light begins to shine, and bee-keeping is advancing.</p>
<p>The Italian bees are more and more approved,
and taking the place of the black bees; and I am
in hopes we shall in a short time have none but
Italians around here.</p>
<p>We have tried friend Alley’s plan of introducing
queens with tobacco smoke, and failed several
times, simply because we did not smoke the
bees enough. We introduce now successfully
with tobacco by smoking them till they are nearly
stupefied, and then they will receive the queen
without fail. We find the Italians will receive a
queen quicker or more readily than the black
bees, without any smoking. The Italians are
better every way than the blacks. They are as
much in advance of the latter as the mowing
machine is in advance of the scythe.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">D. L. Coggshall, Jr.</span></p>
<p><i>West Groton, N. Y.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="A_Visit_to_Palmer_Bros_Apiary_and_What_I">A Visit to Palmer Bros’ Apiary, and What I Saw There.</h2>
<p>I lately went to visit the apiary of Palmer
Bros., at New Boston, in Mercer county. When
I came near the house I saw a lot of beehives
nicely arranged in rows, north and south,
and east and west. They were some eighty in
number, I think. The inmates of the house
were two very pleasant, clever young men,
keeping bachelor’s hall. My team was put up
and cared for, and we had an interesting talk
about bees, beehives, and raising queens.</p>
<p>After dinner the honey-slinger was brought
out. It is one of their own getting up, and does
well the work it is intended for. A hive was
opened, some frames removed, and about twenty
pounds of very nice honey slung out in ten
minutes.</p>
<p>On returning home and having a good night’s
sleep, I went into my own apiary next morning
with new spirits.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">J. Bogart.</span></p>
<p><i>Eliza, Ill.</i>, Aug. 3, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—You may remember that in the
Bee Journal for September, 1869, Mr. George P.
Kellogg, of Waukegan, Ill., gave out a very broad
challenge to bee-keepers. In the October number,
I accepted his challenge; but since that
time we have not heard from Mr. Kellogg, through
the Journal. Now it is due that he should withdraw
his proposition, or meet us at the State
Fair, in Michigan, and take an oyster supper,
and pay the printer; or cry “<i>peccavi!</i>” and I
will pay the printer. What say you, brother
Kellogg?</p>
<p>We have had an excellent honey season in
northern Wisconsin, so far, this summer; with
a prospect of its continuing until frost comes.
Success to the enterprise, and the Journal.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">A. A. Hart.</span></p>
<p><i>Appleton, Wis.</i>, Aug. 6, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>In bee-culture the chief factor is intelligence,
and not capital. The former must produce the
latter.
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">93</span></p>
<h2 id="THE_AMERICAN_BEE_JOURNAL">THE AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL.</h2>
<p>Washington, Oct., 1870.</p>
<p>👉 We have on hand, and unused, numerous
favors from correspondents, as most of them having
been received too late for this issue. The present
arrangements for printing the Journal render it
necessary that articles intended for its pages should
reach us not later than the 10th of the month, to be
in season for the ensuing number.</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<p>👉 We have received copies of “<span class="smcap">Old and New</span>,”
“<span class="smcap">Every Saturday</span>,” “<span class="smcap">Good Health</span>,” and several
other periodicals and publications, which we purposed
noticing this month, but are prevented by want of
room.</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<p>👉 The August number of this Journal contains
an article on “<i>Pure Fertilization Controllable</i>,”
translated by the editor from the “Bienenzeitung.”
It appeared in that sterling and standard periodical,
as a communication from the Rev. A. Semlitsch, who
is pastor of a congregation and a member of the
Ecclesiastical Council at Gratz, in the Austrian
province of Stiria. He has been a prominent
correspondent of the Bienenzeitung for a quarter of a
century, and was previously known as one among the
five chief contributors to Vitzthum’s “<i>Monatsblatt
für Bienenzucht</i>,” the precursor of the Bienenzeitung.
He has always been distinguished for eminent zeal
and efficient labor in striving to advance intelligent
and scientific bee-culture; and published in 1856, at
Gratz, a very excellent practical treatise in aid of the
cause. No man in Europe ever questioned his
truthfulness, or impeached his honor.</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<p>👉 We have copyrighted this Journal, not to
prevent or prohibit any of our exchanges from
copying articles from its pages, but that those who
do copy may see the propriety of giving credit to the
<span class="smcap">American Bee Journal</span>, so fully and plainly that
there can be no mistake or misapprehension about it.
Some have heretofore appropriated such articles
bodily and boldly, without giving any credit whatever;
some thought they had “<i>somewhere read</i>,”
so and so, &c.; others simply credited “<i>Ex.</i>,” leaving
the whereabouts of the said Ex. to be guessed at;
others again, extending their liberality a link or two,
credit “<i>Bee Journal</i>,” vaguely and indefinitely.
We have borne this hitherto without murmur or
complaint, “note or comment,” but do not intend to
be so forbearing hereafter. If articles are worth
copying, their source is worth acknowledging; and
those who fail in doing this in future, may expect to
have to pay for copyright. We punctiliously give
credit ourselves, and may properly ask to receive it.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“Hanc veniam damus petimusque vicissim.”<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>Great waste occurs in feeding meal, in early spring,
as a substitute for pollen, and many bees are lost
while endeavoring to supply themselves, being chilled
by a sudden change of temperature. To prevent
this German bee-keepers do the feeding within the
hive; and Mr. Kanitz of East Prussia, gives the
following as the best mode of doing so: Take fine
wheat flour, rye or oat meal, and stir it gradually
into lukewarm liquid honey till it forms a pretty
stiff paste or mass. In the evening spread a few
ounces of this on an empty comb, insert it in a hive,
and it will be carried up by the bees in the course of
the night. Not more of the paste should be prepared
on any occasion, than can be immediately fed. The
substitute for pollen thus fed, it is said, greatly
promotes brooding.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<h2 id="CORRESPONDENCE_OF_THE_BEE_JOURNAL">CORRESPONDENCE OF THE BEE JOURNAL.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Richmond, Ohio</span>, August 18, 1870.—I have put off
writing till harvest is over, and will now have a short
talk with you on different subjects. This summer
has been a very pleasant one in this part of the
country, with good crops of all kinds except fruit, of
which there will be a small yield. We have been
favored with plenty of rain and consequently good
pasture for stock, and plenty of flowers for the bees
which the latter did not fail to enjoy, for they
gathered large stores of honey and multiplied more
generally than they have done for a number of years.</p>
<p>I have been keeping bees all my life as my father
did before me, but never made it a study until about
two years ago. Since then I have been trying to put my
bees in movable comb hives. These I think every bee-keeper
must and will have ere long, as also the Italian
bees, which I think are much better then the natives,
except that they are inclined to rob the blacks. But
I would keep them for their beauty, if they had no
other good qualities. I wish some one would give us a
general test of their purity as known in Italy. This
should be known throughout this country, as nearly
every queen breeder has a test of his own. My bees
have four bands, counting all; two broad ones next
to the middle, and two narrow ones behind those. If
this is not enough, then I will go for better and
purer ones, as I want the best and none others.</p>
<p>The time of year is coming to think of wintering
bees, and I want to build a wooden house large enough
to accommodate one hundred hives. I wish some of
the knowing ones would give us, through the Journal,
proper directions for building such a house.</p>
<p>Now, a few words in conclusion. Inclosed you will
find my subscription for the Journal for this year;
and please accept my thanks for the valuable instruction
I have received from the American Bee Journal,
and my best wishes for its success. May its contributors
and readers grow wiser and sweeter every
year.—<span class="smcap">J. W. Taylor.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Brooklin, Ontario</span>, August 20.—Bees have done
exceedingly well in this Province, this season; better
than they have done for several years. Though the
loss was fearful last year, it has nearly been made up.
This Province is not abundant in forage for bees, and
we never expect to realize the figures of <i>Novice</i>; yet
some have taken from my hive four boxes of virgin
honey, eighty (80) pounds; and one hundred and
forty-two (142) from the body of the hive, with the
Extractor—making <i>two hundred and twenty-two</i> (222)
pounds from one colony. Another writes me he has
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">94</span>
taken this season over two thousand (2,000) pounds in
boxes, and five hundred (500) pounds with the
Extractor.—<span class="smcap">J. H. Thomas.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Ghent, Ohio</span>, August 22.—I have read and re-read
every number of the Journal, and find it instructive
and profitable. My bees wintered well, last winter,
in my house as described in Vol. V. page 100, of the
Journal. Last winter was with us mild and nice for
wintering on summer stands. I have realized two
hundred and fifty (250) dollars from thirty hives this
season, and have two hundred (200) pounds of honey
on hand. It was all box honey. The increase was
twenty-five (25) good strong natural swarms. They
are all black bees except one, a hybrid queen sent to
me last fall, as pure, from an Eastern queen breeder.
They are not very sociable. The season was all one
could wish for. Bees have done well. The spring
opened just right, and continued favorable throughout.
Success to you and the readers and columns of the Bee
Journal.—<span class="smcap">T. Pierson.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Eliza, Ills.</span>, August 22.—Bees have done well here
this season up to this time. I have some in Langstroth
hives that have stored one hundred and twenty-five
(125) pounds of honey to the hive. I enclose
two dollars for the Bee Journal, as I cannot do without
it.—<span class="smcap">J. Bogart.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Leroy, Ills.</span>, August 23.—This is the first year
that I have kept bees, and find it a very pleasant
business. Bees did not swarm here until August,
and then but little. I divided my old stocks in June,
all of which, both old and new, are doing finely. I
should like to have some older head than mine give
me his opinion as to the plan of reducing the number
of my stock to one-half this fall, in order to have
them stronger and to have plenty of spare comb to
commence with in the spring. And, again,—as I am
asking favors—I should like to have the plan given
on page 109, Vol. IV., B. J., for out-door wintering
republished, for the benefit of new beginners generally
as well as myself. The August number came just in
time for me to try the new plan of controlling the
fertilization of queens. I succeeded in every thing
but having the queen mate in the wire case. Will
some one else give us his experience? I say three
cheers for the American Bee Journal, for I take time
to read and re-read every article in it, and find it,
together with Mr. Langstroth’s valuable book, to be
the staff for new beginners to lean upon for apiarian
knowledge.—<span class="smcap">P. Young.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Rising Sun, Ind.</span>, August 26.—We have a neighbor
at Vevay, Mr. W. Faulkoner, who has had great
success this season, with his bees. I called on him
last week, and had the pleasure of seeing 3,500 lbs. of
white clover honey, which with 1,500 lbs. that he has
already sold, makes <i>five thousand</i> (5,000) <i>pounds</i> for
this year. He had but forty-eight stands in the spring,
so that his hives have averaged over one hundred
pounds each. His increase is fifteen stands, making
now sixty-three, which is as many as he wants to
manage. His hives are a modification of the Langstroth,
allowing the use of surplus boxes on the sides
of the frames.—<span class="smcap">N. H. Shaw.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Shreve, Ohio</span>, August 26.—As I have seen no
communication from this place, I have concluded to
write and let the readers of the Bee Journal hear of
my success in the bee business. I commenced four
years ago with the old black bee in the old fashioned
way. For a few years I made only slow progress,
till of late I have taken more interest in it, and have
now increased my stock to seventy-six colonies, all
Italians, in good condition.</p>
<p>I was surprised when I read Novice’s report of
honey this season; but when I came to think over
how much I had taken from a few hives with the
honey-emptying machine, and as the season was, I
think I too could have had a right smart crop, if I
had attended to the bees as I should have done in the
honey season. As it is, I shall probably not get much
over one thousand (1,000) pounds, principally box
honey. I will just state, for the benefit of the bee-keeping
public, that I have tried a Peabody machine,
which works to perfection, and is what every bee-keeper
that uses movable frames needs. As far as the
different hives are concerned, there is not so much
difference as some suppose. I think a plain frame in
a simple hive of convenient form is all that any one
needs. As far as reliable queen raisers are concerned,
I will just state that I have dealt with a good many,
and have found Adam Grimm, of Jefferson, (Wis.,)
perfectly reliable and prompt in filling orders. I
have got quite a number of queens from him this season
by mail, post paid. I inclose a photograph of my
apiary, and if any of the readers of the Journal wish
one, I will send it on receipt of forty cents, or send
one on receiving one for exchange. In conclusion I
wish the Journal success, and all its readers good luck
and much pleasure in the pursuit of so profitable a
business as bee-culture.—<span class="smcap">G. W. Stinebring.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Edgefield Junction, Tenn.</span>, August 29.—This season,
thus far, has been the poorest, both for swarming
and honey, of any for more than twenty-four years
that I have been in this State. We had a drouth in
May, followed by frequent and severe cold rains for
more than three weeks, by which time our clover
harvest for bees was nearly past. As a general thing
July and August do not furnish much forage for bees,
but we have every prospect for honey this fall. The
last two seasons we had a honey harvest from almost
the first of April till late in the fall; and on both
occasions, late in the fall my hives were so filled with
honey that in many of them there were not a hundred
empty cells. I removed from one to three frames of
honey, placing the remaining frames half an inch or
more apart for winter. By doing this, and protecting
my hives from the cold winds, I saved them all—one
hundred and sixty-four in number last year, and
sixty-eight the year before. This season being a poor
one, I have not increased stock so much, though I
have made fifty-one good colonies. In July I had to
feed a few colonies, and found it difficult to keep up
my nuclei.—<span class="smcap">T. B. Hamlin.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">West Groton, N. Y.</span>, August 31.—The honey
season has been very good here, and scientific bee-culture
is progressing. Old fashioned bee-keepers
are amazed when they see the large quantity of honey
we got from eight colonies of bees—over eight
hundred and seventy-five (875) pounds.</p>
<p>I like the American Bee Journal very much. We
should not have had near as much honey, if we had
not had the Journal to read and study.—<span class="smcap">D. H.
Coggshall, Jr.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Fulton, Ills.</span>, September 3.—Bees are doing very
well here now, though the forepart of the season was
not generally favorable on account of the drouth.
Buckwheat is not yielding much honey. The second
crop of red clover is in full bloom, and the bees are
working on it very busily. This is the first season
that I have seen bees do much on red clover, in this
section, as the blossom is usually too large; but this
year, owing to the drouth the heads are smaller. The
different varieties of the golden rod are just coming
into bloom, as also the wild aster; and the prospect
is that the bees will do well until after we have hard
frosts. Light frosts do not affect the aster. If acceptable,
I will try to furnish some account of the
doings, of the bees in this section, at the close of the
season.—<span class="smcap">R. R. Murphy.</span>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">95</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Genoa, Ills.</span>, September 9.—Please excuse my
being thus dilatory in not making an earlier
remittance for the Journal. This little amount I
could have turned to very good account in other
directions; yet, as I am circumstanced, I think
that one volume of the American Bee Journal is
worth three or four times as much to me as the same
sum laid out in any other way at home. For had it
not been for the Journal, I should long since have
been as many of my neighbors are—“<i>one that</i> <small>USED</small>
<i>to keep bees</i>.” I am aware that my location is not
naturally favorable for bee-keeping, as we sometimes
have two or three seasons in succession that are
hard on the bee business; yet I am not inclined to
give it up so. In 1868, I put twenty swarms into my
kitchen cellar. Most of them had not one pound of
honey on the first of January; but I made up my
mind to try the winter feeding to my full satisfaction. I
took off caps, cut a hole two inches by five through
the honey board, which was half an inch thick;
fastened cotton cloth upon the under side, which
made a box large enough to hold all the food I
wished to put in at a time. The food was syrup of
good refined sugar. I took care that they were all
ventilated according to the size of the stock; and as
the temperature would change in a measure with that
outside, I would regulate ventilation accordingly;
and by constant attention they come out in the spring
with the loss of only two swarms, besides two that
became queenless. No more bees died than usual in
wintering; and although the season last year was
wet and cold, they managed to procure sufficient to
carry them through the winter in tolerably good condition.
But this spring and summer the drouth
seemed to threaten them with starvation. We had
no rain from the last of March till the first of July,
with the exception of two slight showers that did
not, either of them, wet the ground more than an
inch deep. Notwithstanding, with the white clover,
which put out some small blossoms and in moist
places where not pastured, continued fresh, and
some wild flowers, the bees kept along till the rains
came in July. Then the clover and other blossoms
came out quite fresh; so for a few weeks the bees
gained a little and afforded some surplus honey.
Now the buckwheat is in full bloom, and the bees
seem to be taking time by the foretop, by improving
each hour, shine or no shine. The hybrid bees, as
well as the pure-blooded, appear to be exerting
themselves to vindicate the superior merits of their
ancestors; and although it may seem cruel, I stand
ready, with open and greedy hands to receive their
hard-earned stores, and furnish them with store-room
to enable them to continue on another willing task.
My eighteen acres of Alsike and two of melilot
clover are entirely killed by the drouth. For three
years I have not only had to contend with adverse
seasons, but have been a target for friends and
neighbors to pop their jokes at, for my persistence
in such unprofitable business. But I had made up
my mind to fight it out on this line; and by the
assistance of the American Bee Journal, with its
able and generous contributors, am confident that
eventually I will come out all right. Though the
season has been a hard one, I have now taken out
honey enough to pay for all the sugar I have used
and for the four volumes of the Journal, and have
added one-third to the number of my stocks this
season—while many old fogies of my acquaintance,
who laugh at the idea of using patent hives or paying
the trifling sum for the Journal, have lost some
nearly all, and others quite all of their bees.—<span class="smcap">A.
Stiles.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Sparta Center, Mich.</span>, September 7.—I cannot
think of getting along without the Journal. I
supposed that I was doing extremely well in the bee
business, until I read Novice’s reports, which are
surprising. I have kept bees four years, commencing
with nine colonies in box hives. At the end of the
first season, I had fourteen, all told. I buried them
according to the plan recommended in Langstroth’s
“Hive and Honey Bee,” and lost two. The second
summer I had fourteen new swarms, making my
stock twenty-six in the fall; but, as the season was
a poor one, I had no surplus honey. I buried them
in clumps, as before, and in the spring found three
were <i>non est</i>. This was the spring of 1869. During
the ensuing summer, I had twenty-four new swarms
and nine hundred (900) pounds of surplus honey,
and began to know something of the habits, &c., of
bees. In the fall of 1869, I built a bee house for
wintering, 10 feet by 20, outside measure, 8 feet by
18 inside. The walls were made by using two rows
of studding, boarded up outside and inside of each row,
leaving an air space between the walls, and filling
between the studding with saw dust. This spring I
had forty-six good stocks, and have obtained 2,194
pounds of No. 1 honey. I have now one hundred
and ten (110) colonies, all but three or four in good
condition for wintering. I have no Italian bees, as I
wished to learn to manage and handle the blacks,
before trying any that might require more skill. I
use Langstroth’s “shallow things.” All except five
of my swarms are in frame hives, and every comb is
straight with not over sixteen square inches of drone
comb to a hive. Sixty-nine of my queens are of the
present season. All my new colonies were made
artificially, except six. I made them by starting
nuclei, and building up by taking comb, honey, and
brood from strong stocks. I fed each colony a little
syrup every alternate day from April 1 to June 1.
Nearly all the surplus honey of this year is made
from or <i>gathered</i> from white clover blossoms. Last
year it was from linden or basswood.—I should like
to know if Novice or others using the melextractor,
have had any trouble with the honey fermenting
after being canned. I have had several cans spoil.
It assumed a reddish hue and became watery in
appearance. I should like to know how to avoid
losing any in future.—<span class="smcap">A. B. Cheney.</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">Winchester, Va.</span>, September 10.—This has been
a good season for honey, but few swarms. I started
in the spring with sixty-four colonies and have had
twenty-one swarms. They will make a fine lot of
honey. I use the Langstroth hive. Some of my
neighbors that have ten or twelve old-fashioned box
hives, think the Langstroth hive costs too much, but
come to me every fall to buy honey. I have seven
colonies of Italian bees. I think they are superior
to the black bee, both for swarming and making
honey. I obtained my queens of Mr. Henry Alley.
I think he deserves great credit for sending pure
queens and acting honorably with his patrons. My
bees are not making any honey now, as there was no
buckwheat sown in this part of the country. The
most that we have to depend on in this country is
white clover and blue thistle. We sowed one pound
of Alsike clover seed in April, 1869, and mowed it for
seed July 25, 1870. I thought it a humbug, but am
agreeably disappointed. My bees worked on it from
early morn till late at night. The farmers are much
pleased with it, both for hay and pasture.—<span class="smcap">B. F.
Montgomery.</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>It cannot be too deeply impressed on the mind
of the bee-keeper, that a small colony should be
confined to a small space, if we wish the bees to
work with the greatest energy, and offer the
stoutest resistance to their numerous enemies.—<i>Langstroth.</i>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">96</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For The American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Two_Queens_in_One_Hive">Two Queens in One Hive.</h2>
<p>When removing some honey boxes on the 25th
of July last, I found that a large strong stock
had two queens. I see in Vol. V., No. 8, of the
Journal, that Mr. E. M. Johnson discovered two
queens in one of his hives in January. Before
movable comb hives were used to any great extent,
such a thing was considered impossible;
but we hear of such cases frequently, now that
we have easy access to the interior of our hives.</p>
<p>After removing the boxes, I placed them in my
cellar, to have the bees go back to their hives;
which they all did, except those in one box, which
I found contained the queen that I had saved
about a fortnight before, a few days after they
had swarmed. In removing a frame of brood to
give to a weak stock, when brushing off the bees
in front of the hive, I saw there was a fine looking
queen with them. She went into the hive
and was received by the bees. Now, why was
this queen in a box containing sealed honey? I
should judge both queens were fertile. The bees
had killed off their drones a number of days before,
so that they did not think of swarming.</p>
<p>Now can we say positively that two queens are
not tolerated in one hive? Is it not possible that
the workers cluster around them, and keep them
apart?</p>
<p>The next day, I returned the queen, after
smoking both queen and bees. She was well
received, and was all right the next time I opened
the hive; and for all I know, they have two
queens still. If other bee-keepers have such
cases, I should be pleased to hear from them
through the Journal.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">A. Green.</span></p>
<p><i>Amesbury, Mass.</i>, Aug. 15, 1870.</p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For The American Bee Journal.]</p>
<h2 id="Bee_Houses">Bee Houses.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—It is now admitted that bee
houses are requisite for bee-keepers in this
climate.</p>
<p>I have recently seen that “concrete buildings”
are “cheap and substantial. For dwellings, all
hollow walls and lathing are dispensed with,”
and they are “found to be as dry as wooden
houses.” It is also said—“The heat would be so
long retained in the walls, that the saving in fuel
would be no inconsiderable item.”</p>
<p>It appears to me that this is just what is
wanted in those localities where the material can
easily be had.</p>
<p>Will some of your correspondents, acquainted
with the subject, give an opinion as to their
adaptability, and mode of construction?</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Tyro.</span><br/></p>
<p><i>Ontario, Canada.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>The blossoms of onions abound in honey, the
odor of which, when first gathered, is very offensive;
but before it is sealed over, this disappears.—<span class="smcap">Langstroth.</span></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p class="author">
[For the American Bee Journal.]<br/></p>
<h2 id="Bees_in_Hancock_County_Indiana">Bees in Hancock County, Indiana.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Editor</span>:—Having been raised in the
mountains of Virginia, I had not much chance
for schooling and do not expect to write anything
smart; but in my blundering manner will
try to tell you how I am getting along in the
bee business.</p>
<p>In the fall of 1868, I had twelve stands of
black bees in log and box hives. All seemed to
be in nice order and doing well. But they
became subject to dysentery, flux, or whatever
you may please to call it. The disease did its
work, and next spring I had one colony left,
with not over a quart of bees. But 1869 was a
good season for bees. My one colony cast five
swarms, and the first swarm cast one also—making
seven in all. All wintered well on their
summer stands.</p>
<p>This spring I bought Langstroth hives, and
on the 27th of May got a man that understood
the business to come and help me transfer and
divide them. We put them in fourteen hives,
and all are doing well. We took away the
black queens and gave them Italian queens—one
of which died or was killed before commencing
to lay, for which my man sent me
another in her place. Another either died or
was killed, nine days after she was introduced,
but left plenty of young brood; and they have
not less than fifteen queen cells capped and
nearly ready to hatch. Query, would it be
better to divide them as they are very strong,
and then have their queens fertilized by black
drones, as I have no Italian drones yet? Or
should I let them alone, and let them swarm or
kill off all their queens but one, as they see fit?</p>
<p>I intend to divide all my bees as soon as
Italian drones are plenty. Mine are the only
Italian bees in this settlement, and the woods
are full of black bees. I shall be troubled with
hybrids, but intend to keep on in the good work
until I have them all pure Italians.</p>
<p>Our country is almost covered—that is, pastures
and meadow—with white clover. Even
the lanes and highways are white with its bloom,
and bees have a good time gathering honey.</p>
<p>I am well pleased with the <span class="smcap">Journal</span>, and add
the names of some bee-keepers, who perhaps do
not yet take it. I think you would do well to
send them specimen numbers.</p>
<p class="author">
<span class="smcap">Jonathan Smith.</span></p>
<p><i>Willow Branch, Ind.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>BEES ALOFT.—About two years ago, a
swarm of bees was discovered in the steeple of
the Congregational Church in Gilsum, N. H.,
where they have since remained. As a result,
fifty-six pounds of honey were recently obtained
from the sacred edifice.—<i>Boston Journal.</i></p>
<p class="table"><ANTIMG src="images/hr.png" alt="" /></p>
<p>Light colonies, deficient in honey, should be
fed in the latter part of September or early in
October. If feeding is begun early, in seasons
where late forage is abundant, there will be a
great waste of honey.—<i>Langstroth.</i></p>
<div class="transnote">
<h3>Transcriber’s Note:</h3>
<p>Obvious printer errors corrected silently.</p>
<p>Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.</p>
</div>
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