228 



THE GARDENERS' MONTHLY 



[August, 



With good intent, be it said, I separated them and 

 thought no more about it. Two of them flew 

 straight to the hive, and the other took wing in an 

 opposite direction. Soon after, in the neighbor- 

 hood of the hives, was heard a strange buzzing and 

 a noisy commotion within. There was mischief 

 brewing. Presently a score or more flew in my 

 face, singing "Business, business, mind your own 

 business," and viciously stung me. Like skirmish- 

 ers in the front, they were closely followed by an 

 army of some thousands of infuriated foes, who 

 spitefully charged upon me from all sides, like a 

 legion of devils. Maddened with the venom of 

 their poisoned weapons, I fought the noxious tor- 

 mentors off as best I could, and yelling with pain 

 made off for home as fast as I could run. Although 

 I had but a short distance to go, I could scarcely 

 see my way in at the door. If " our soldiers swore 

 terribly in Flanders," perhaps they were justified. 

 And if at any time justifiable swearing is admiss- 

 ible, I think it is when ten thousand fiendish bees 

 assail us, and there seems to be no other way of 

 overcoming their atrocious and diabolical designs. 

 I am not an adept in the art of war, and to a 

 knowledge of military science I lay no claim. I 

 confess to knowing more about plowshares and 

 pruning-hooks than swords and spears. 



The infernal furies drove me as near to the di- 

 viding line of the valley and shadow of death as I 

 have ever been before or since. No professional 

 bruiser's eyes were more effectually bunged up 

 than mine. Neither were the features of anything 

 living so shockingly deformed or frightfully dis- 

 torted. Talk about "the human face divine," my 

 own neither looked human nor divine. For the 

 time being I was a marked man, if not "a man of 

 mark." And was, moreover, distinguished by being 

 the only one of the kind in the universe. Certainly, 

 no homogeneous being bore any resemblance to 

 me. My friends failed to recognize me, and even 

 my dog, the hitherto faithful "Toby," disowned 

 me. 



If Job had been my name, I, perchance, might 

 have borne the affliction patiently and felt thankful 

 under the circumstances. But no Jewish virtues 

 possessed me then. My name was William, an 

 Anglo-Saxon, and I suffered accordingly. The 

 combined medical skill of Doctors Drastic, Bolus 

 and Bleedem, coupled with a sound constitution, 

 saved me ; and a merciful Providence has spared 

 me to make known the perils of bee-keeping. Hav- 

 ing accomplished the pious duty assigned me of 

 informing my fellow-creatures of the evil thatbefel 

 me (as a warning to others), when " Pandora's 



box " was opened and a legion of bee-devils flew 

 out and encompassed me round about — must con- 

 clude. 



As my mission is now ended, and it only remains 

 for me to say that whenever I see "the httle busy 

 bee," it reminds me of Hamlet's words. "He poi- 

 sons him i' the garden." 



Bee — An insect that makes honey and wax, says 

 Worcester. 



Bee — An insect that makes me flee away, savs 



W. T. Harding. 



EDITORIAL NOTES. 



Rose Sidonie. — The French Journal des 



Roses does not wholly devote itself to new roses. 



In the October number it gives a colored plate of 



the beautiful old hybrid perpetual Sidonie, which 



to day is not surpassed by any new one, when we 



i take into consideration a number of good points. 



It is especially interesting as being the parent of 



the whole race of hybrid perpetuals. It was 



i raised, in 1820. from an English hybrid China 



! rose, named as the Portland, or Portland Damask, 



i a hybrid with the Rosa Indica and Rosa gallica. 



I The raiser of Sidonie was a Mons. Godefroy, 



! florist of Ville d'Avry in France. 



i Japan Maples. — A report of the Massachusetts 



Horticultural Society says: "Mr. Strong mentioned 



first the Japanese maples of the polymorphum 



type, which may be properly classed as shrubs. 



; There can be but one opinion as to the exceeding 



! beauty of many of them. The variety known as 



' atro-sanguineum purpureum is perhaps the best for 



our climate. But it is greatly to be feared that 



i none of these are likely to prove vigorous, though 



it is probable they will withstand our winters if they 



I mature a healthy summer growth. The difficulty is 



! with our hot suns. On the estate of Mr. Hunnewell, 



I where they have the benefit of shelter and moisture, 



j they seem to thrive, and are superlatively beauti- 



^ful. But at Messrs. Parsons' nursery in Flushing, 



where they have been largely propagated, they do 



not get from the frames to the open ground to any 



extent. The general experience is that they will 



require such careful nursing as will unfit them for 



I ordinary cultivation." We quite agree with the 



estimate placed on the atro-purpureum, or atro- 



: sanguineum, as it seems to be indifferently called. 



i Most ot these maples are curious, but this one has 



■ the germs of the widest popularity. 



As to hardiness, the tenderness noted at Flush- 



