FOURTEENTH ANNUAL YEAR BOOK— PART IX. 633 



His calm ansv/er and the seemingly indifferent manner with which he 

 turned those frames of comb and bees over and around, all the while 

 critically examining them, captivated me and / loas stung imth the tee 

 fever. Maybe you think it strange, but the fever has not yet abated. 



Well, my confidence soon grew bolder and I w^as finally near enough 

 to peek over into the hive. Wonderful, delightful, entrancing. I suppose 

 you fellows know how it feels when you feel that way? 



But, horrors! He asked me to hold a frame for him while he did 

 something or other that needed attention. My nervous chills immediately 

 changed to "shiveriness." My teeth would have chattered themselves 

 loose had I not set my jaws solidly together, and would you believe it, 

 when some of those varmints ventured to run over my hands, the water 

 seemed to ooze off of me in a manner that would put a turkish bath to 

 shame. After it was all over, I w'ent home weak as a cat and laid down 

 to ruminate, resuscitate and recover, for I had experienced a drenching 

 equal to any turkish bath I have ever had administered to me. 



I just couldn't rest. I wanted some bees; and because they did not 

 sting me was one of the best reasons I should have them, and then again 

 I had never before, in all my life, had enough honey to eat. 



My neighbor was Mr. George Belt. I asked him to find me some bees. 

 He did. We soon became fast friends, just because we had found true 

 pleasure in the same hobby — bees. My wife soon called me "nutty." 

 George and I were both fatally afflicted with the malady. Many an hour 

 we ruminated on the possibilities and the pleasures we had discovered in 

 the yellow-banded friends, growing more nutty every day. Ever after 

 we have hailed each other as "George B." and "Hamlin B." 



I soon secured three colonies, brought in from the country in home- 

 made hives. Gee, but I w'as afraid of them just the same. Setting them 

 on boxes in the back yard I carefully pulled off one of the cleats that 

 kept them in the hives and ran away to a safe distance. They were so 

 overjoyed at the fresh air I had let in that the whole yard seemed to be 

 full of bees and their (I did not then understand) music, as they played 

 in and out of the hive. As soon as their enthusiasm had waned, I stole 

 up and liberated another hive. Now George B. did not see this, or he 

 would have laughed, I know. 



My wife also became interested (or rather a little "nutty") at this 

 juncture and began handing out advice as to how I should conduct my- 

 self and manage the newly acquired back yard friends. Many have been 

 the fool things w'e thought of, tried and experienced during the past 

 three years. 



This was in the fall of the year and I put those three hives in the 

 cellar, and shut the cellar up tight from air as well as light. Every time 

 I went dow'n cellar, I hurried out again. My wife always made me go 

 down for vegetables and canned fruit. I had to be bold, of course, but I 

 was really afraid, just the same. The bees would come out and fly around. 

 The floor was becoming thickly covered with them. I was awfully wor- 

 ried. I knew they would all be dead on the floor before spring. They 

 got so noisy at times, and so bold, that I put off taking them out of doors 

 until after the middle of the following April, and when I did grow bold 



